Tim B Poet Rhyme

The Winter of My Discontent

The gelid wind is a knife, ice to bone
As Demeter decries Persephone's moan
I too shed a tear, crystalline nature
In the pallid winter of my discontent.

Downy flakes fly in my woods, this glacier
melts slowly, apart from everyone ashore
I die a little more each day I bore
Holes, In this winter of my discontent.

No ode to my urn shall abide tragedy
Created in frolic architecture, majesty
Denied grace in art, I cry a little more
In the frigid winter of my discontent.

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Val Brooklyn Rogers Blk Panther February 27, 2018 at 8:46 PM Lovely artistry flavors your discontent. Great write.

Carolyn Devonshire January 6, 2014 at 4:51 PM Tim, you are definitely not "denied grace in art." What a remarkable poem! I love the way you used winter as a metaphor to describe your feelings. Very nice! Best wishes for a great 2014, Carolyn

Cherl Dunn January 6, 2014 at 1:29 AM i LOVE THE OLD WORLD FLAVOR IN THIS WRITE NICELY DONE MY FELLOW SOUPER. CHERI

Nette Onclaud January 5, 2014 at 10:30 AM painted on mythical canvas both sad and alluring, tim.. amazing stuff about a winter's wail... huggs

Russell Sivey January 2, 2014 at 10:24 PM You sure can write some brilliant works of art my friend! I love how you written a spectacular poem Tim! You have shown a real winter emotion within this incredible piece! What a glorious poem, Great Work!!

Sara Kendrick January 2, 2014 at 4:10 PM Discontent can really be a winter alright..Enjoyed reading your creative work..Thanks for the visit to my page..Your faithfulness in dropping by last year is apprreciated each stop lifted my spirit..Sara

Richard Lamoureux January 2, 2014 at 1:28 PM This has a very old world feel to it. I enjoyed the mood you created.