A Wintry Night

A Wintry Night The night is dull, dreary and cold, Yet my books I wish to unfold, My aged pen I wish to hold And divine verses to unroll. The wind is cold, sturdy and strong, My bones are frail, feeble and weak, Yet my mind is robust and young And songs with rhymes I long to tweet. The clouds are dense, hefty and dark, Yet my inner self is full bright, Plugged with the radiant inner spark And dazzling with the inner light. The rains are wet, heavy and damp, Yet my soul is light and full bright, Drawing from the flame of the lamp, Lit throughout the day and the night. My frame is still, steady and warm, But soon it will turn wintry cold And laid to rest as food for worms Or set to fire on a fold. Yet the night will soon fade away And anon a new dawn creep in, Giving rise to another day, May be better than one has seen. Like the new dawn, my soul will rise To reside in another shrine Until, at last, time will arise For it to reach the Divine Shrine Where there will be no wintry night And the light will be ever bright. Written on 7 May 2023 For A Brian Strand Premiere No. 1215 Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand