Winter Is a Despicable Demise

Winter is a despicable demise, more fear rises while the sumptuous moon claims herself queen of the stars; ghosts stump on the wooden floor their sound terrifies. Their image glows in shadows shallower than clouds, they rattle the tiny crib where gorgeous James lies, " Ah, dark Heavens! It's a nightmare unlike others! " I glance at the gloomy forest without moonbeams; the artic wind bends tree tops, stripping them of leaves; is he angry, or moaning the loss of brightness? I stare farther, the above firmament frightens: constellations disappear from these very eyes, adorned with brilliance, the big moon smiles! Written on 1/8/2017