Thursday, October 15, 2009

Old Man Winter

Old man Winter smites the Fall,
Which didn't seem to come at all.
No transition into the cold,
Already I've concluded this weather old.
The trees seek rest from the bitter chill,
For fear they don't they may suit ill.
Summer's warmth has weaned away,
The frigid frost now gilds the day.
Peering out to the spiraling snow,
I marvel where the Summer's fever did go.
I now await the adornment of spring,
So that the Sun's rays may embellish and sing.

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Hail Lucifer

Hail Lucifer