Snow garnished copse pristine
Sylvan beauties pressed between
A precious roses weary death
As cold consumes its last breath
Pale gray skies arrange to rest
The moon, she lays in solemn crest
Icy shadows portrayed in mist
Enticing a frosty winters kiss

A frigid night in the coppice hollow
Frightful place for one to wallow
With trees so bare resembling veins
Where silence creeps and quiet remains
A foreboding sense eerily feeds me
The yearning to leave, the desire to flee
Yet curiosity thrives amongst these forest trees
I’m compelled to stroll on against the freeze

And lost I have been ever since

 
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