The Fall of the Winter King

The Fall of The Winter King He had risen to power fueled by a vicious and ruthless determination to reclaim a lost throne. His tactics had stunned the unsuspecting, laid barren the fields, blanketed the forest, silenced the sounds of life itself. A dictator, seeking no counsel, accepting no offers of surrender, driven by the desire to destroy the kingdom that had usurped his throne. Rumors spread of a daring bud – sprouting - a tune hummed by the imprisoned trees adrift on the whipping winds of war in defiance of the heartless king. A call to arms sounded by the most gentle, the most delicate. The first acts of open rebellion, The resounding crack of the ice jamb the aching roar of the river’s rage surging over its banks awakening those still held captive. Slowly the insurrection took root buds gathered in hidden clusters, trees quietly bloomed muffling the screeching gales, offering safety to bands of rebels. Flocks of warblers met - feathered archers - hurling their darting arrows against the glare of a cold king’s horror. Sweet grasses spread across the brown, despoiled fields - a verdant gauntlet tossed in the face of dread. Flowers crept from thawing dungeons waving their colors, swarms of banished pollinators followed the call to duty. The ebb and flow of battle - frosted retreats, clandestine sunrise maneuvers. The resurgence of heart, the growing hope of warmth. As memory of the chilled repression faded preparation was made to receive the beauty and bounty of a new and peaceful King. John G. Lawless 1/11/2015 For SKAT’s Winter’s End – Poetry Contest