Lori Lucas Mcclure Poet Rhyme

A Woeful Winter Dirge

Comes winter with its icy blast 
Across the land thy death shadow cast
Life purged by thy soulless wind 
With thy sting of death thou doest offend
Thy snowy shroud upon January’s cold ground lain
Bitter tears of crystal ice now rain
Naked branches broken and battered in sorrow doth wail 
amid thy northern gales. 
Woeful Winter Dirge!   
May the southern breeze push back thy artic surge
O Scourge of the seasons release your icy grasp 
May the sun shine at last!

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S.Jagathsimhan Nair March 30, 2012 at 1:35 PM don't get to see you these days..the blasted winter over, it's time for some fine ones from your pen, Lori, jag

Elizabeth Wesley December 13, 2011 at 9:31 AM Hi Lori, you somehow released my feelings exactly on a time that lasts too long. Your descriptions make me shiver!

Fabiyas M V December 6, 2011 at 7:04 AM Beautifully penned on winter,Lori