Ovidiu Bocsa Poet Italian Sonnet

White

It`s peace in the forest, this night…
All stars gathered in the same breath;
The frost`s wolf chatters his white teeth;                                                   
 Mourning old trees are all covered by light;
The wind increased his obsessive white;
Neighbors: the snowmen and a glass stag 
When night is finally waving its white flag,
Dreams are hanged by luminous white of the height.

Winter buried its face in frozen white lands,       
Long Snow drifts grew like glass clouds above       
And covered the village and half of the church;    
Sun seems a squeezed lemon by white hands.                                                 
Milk dawns, glass blower speaks slowly of love;     
White field sounds with crows near one silver birch.

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Karen Croft July 25, 2017 at 5:45 PM Beatiful poem. Can geel that i am standing there looking at the view. Thank you so much for your comments on my poetry earlier.

Meg Anderson December 4, 2014 at 12:19 PM I loved the images that come to mind when reading this. thanks for sharing.