Melanie Cox Poet Classicism

My Winter

In rushes winter
At a furious pace
Upon arrival
Time slows
Descending from grace

Shrouding blue skies
In blankets of grey
Dark extends
Cold creeps  
Shall not go away

Icy fingers burrow
Excavating my being
Hollow spirit
Light hides
No longer seeing

Emotionless shivers
Inhaled with each breath
As if frozen
Air stills
Yet smelling of death

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Jan Allison January 13, 2018 at 4:06 PM love the personification of winter Melanie congrats on your win:-) hugs Jan xx

Gregory Richard Barden December 15, 2017 at 9:59 PM A sincere congrats on your well-deserved win, Melanie - blessings to you, friend! :-)

Viv Wigley November 29, 2017 at 3:08 AM Well done on your placement in my contest, Melanie, with this icy piece. Viv x

Meghana Shakthi Ashwin Kumar Iyer November 26, 2017 at 12:10 AM love this poem... Melanie Cox November 28, 2017 at 2:09 PM Thank you kindly for the read and taking the time to respond:)