2026 Winter Poetry Contest: Fourth Place

         

Photo by Filip Bunkens on Unsplash

  A Portrait of Winter
D.P. Rosenthal

Her skin’s a porcelain field of polished white,
Her frame a frail and gaunt but regal mien.
‘Neath silver brows shine ice beads twinkling bright
And cold thin lips which glist’n a frosted sheen. 

Her hair cascades in streams of moonbeam cold,
Adornèd with a crown of crystal flakes.
Her face is lined by Time in furrowed folds,
Though beauty lingers yet which age ne’er takes.

She walks a dim and winding path alone,
While all around her lies in dormant rest.
Her countenance grave, a somber mask of stone,
She sets her eyes on her long journey west.

No youth of spring, nor summer warmth remain,
But calm repose until she rise again.

. . . . .

I hope you liked reading this poem; let me know if you enjoyed this and join
my email list if you want to be notified for future posts. Have a wonderful day and God bless you!

Comments

Popular Posts