A Winter PondSting-chill of winter matt –
Her frozen hand caressed us all;
And calming bleach of silence
Pressed upon the rustic scape
To leave an ashen underbelly –
Once raging summer chroma.
Even Winter’s gelid lungs laboured
Under heavy drag of flakes –
Their pilgrimage: to stay a deadened floor
In crunch-white peace.
And round about, the weight of time
– Collapsing under Winter’s drag –
Transmutes to grey: it’s three o’clock –
No lights pricking black out here! –
Even the night globe,
The Great Reflector – stonewalled;
Camouflaged by lead-laden cloud
Lolling in the claustrophobic noon.
At ground, a farm pond –
Seized in a dark hiatus –
Offered up repentance –
Why, it dared to harbour life!
I forgave it in my desperate gaze
Upon the crazy-paving surface,
That sealed in the black-chill temperature,
Where at bottom, something nithered
Mark R Slaughter http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-winter-pond/
I love the language of this poem; I fully admit I had never heard of the word 'gelid', to me it sounds like it has escaped from the poem Jabberwocky. It means 'very cold, icy or frosty'; I know you all know that, I just explained it to remind myself really. It is my new favourite word. I shall go into work and say 'ooh its a bit gelid out there today' and they shall all nod in agreement.
I do love words that are new to me.