“First Snowfall”, haibun form for d’versepoets.

 

 

First Snowfall

 

There is such beauty in the night. A sudden snowfall pushed the boundaries of the mundane back and fantasy flows—an outrageous mythology upon the landscape. The white challenges the moon, lights up a trampled ground and gives purity to all it covers. Shadows form where there were none, now a supple mystery to something once familiar. A week ago leaves were brocaded quilts beneath our feet, crackling with a season’s wind- driven music, tearing around eaves and scaring the haunts in the attic.

Behold a strange, alluring world transformed, made anew.   Huge trees groan with icy burdens. The moon paints the top of pines with frostbite. Bushes split in two with alien gifts and powerlines are crystalized spider webs crisscrossing streets. The silence is complete.

 

 

A half-moon drifts

Across wintry sky.

Trees become monsters.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2016

 

First Snowfall

 

Liras, a strong  writer and a woman who stands up to her convictions, has posted the first chapter of “Diary of a Changling”, a series I wrote  about Paris, 1940.  An Englishwoman is stranded in Paris when the Nazis march in, and her lover, unbeknownst to her, is in the French Resistance.  There are only 10 chapters so far in the novella. 

Warning:  this is a work of erotica.

Thank you, Liras.  Her blog can be found at juicymetaphor.wordpress.com

Lady Nyo

 

First Snowfall

 

There is such beauty in the still-night.

A sudden snowfall  pushed

The boundaries of the mundane back

And fantasy flows like outrageous mythology.

–

The white challenges the moon

Lights up a trampled ground

And gives a purity to all it covers.

Shadows form where  there were none

A supple mystery to something  familiar,

Now a strange, alluring world

Transformed, made anew,

Even forbidding as the huge trees

Groan with an icy burden

And bushes are split in two

With the weight of an alien gift,

Power lines  crystalized spider webs

Spun across streets.

–

The silence complete.

No modern noise intrudes.

It is Winter’s gag on  fretfulness,

Restlessness, all noise.

–

Commanded to stay inside

To read a book,

To look outside and admire

A miracle that we, with all our intelligence

Can not remake.

–

This is Winter’s true gift.

We are to obey the season

This enforced solitude,

Wrap  ourselves in this quilt of quiet,

Cast off our endless activity,

Finally be still,

To heal with a balm of serenity.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014

“First Snowfall”….

 

‘PITCHER OF MOON’ NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM!~

http://goo.gl/RzFRj4

Outside from second story window….

Mimi prowling in the snow this am.

 

This morning the sun is shining, the snow and ice are melting and it’s beautiful outside. A chance to snuggle down and read books.  And bake bread.

Lady Nyo

 

First Snowfall

 

There is such beauty in the still-night.

A sudden snowfall has pushed

The boundaries of the mundane back

And fantasy flows like outrageous myths.

–

The white challenges the moon

Lights up a trampled ground

And gives a purity to all it covers.

Shadows form where there were none

A supple mystery to things once familiar.

Now a strange and alluring world

Transformed, remade anew,

Even forbidding as  huge trees

Groan with an icy burden

And bushes  split in two

With the weight of an alien gift,

 Powerlines crystalized spider webs

Criss-crossing streets.

–

The silence is deep

No modern disturbance intrudes.

It is Winter’s gag on our fretfulness,

Our restlessness, our noise.

We are commanded to stay inside

By the fire, to read a book,

To look outside and admire

A miracle that we, with all our intelligence

Can not reproduce.

–

This is Winter’s true gift.

We are to obey the season

This enforced solitude,

To wrap ourselves in this quilt of quiet,

Cast off our endless activity,

To finally be still,

To heal with the balm of serenity.

–

 Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014