The Lion's Book: A Poetry Collection

Solstice

You are bitter with your words and in your ways.

With each stride you leave a frigid, icy path.

I have long endured the winters of this kind,

I have maneuvered ev'ry slick and frozen sheet.

Although your coolness nips my skin, I feel no sting.

You are but foolish ev'ry time you come to me.

I walk with summer to my left, spring to my right.

You tread in snow

and sleep in ice.

Your tongue spits hail, but my heart is aflame,

And well you know, I'm winter's bane.

A/N: Supposed to be asleep right now, but I felt my creative juices stirring within.