The one they called winter bird
she was the warden of the ice
She would dance on light footfalls
on a carpet of glittering snow
Her laughter sounded like ringing glass
and her tears appeared as frost
Her heart beat slow, and slower still
ancient reminder that she was alive
No one touched the ice in the true north
for her magic was as strong as it was cold
She was a guardian, protector of stillness
the one they called winter bird.
A/N: Poem I wrote quite a while back, inspired by a song by the same name by Aurora.
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Old Words
PoetryA collection (and selection) of my old poetry. If you want to read some of my more recent work, check out The Magic Of Poetry, An Abundance Of Haiku or Bright.
