The fox it watches,
As its feet dance across the shiny frozen lake;
Each move as delicate as the last.
The jazz tune calls upon the hills of fate:
'Carry me home. O' carry me onward'.
Into thy doom does the darkness carry.
Of a journey so fateful;
So perilous and wistful.
Over the brow the sun doth rise,
A new beginning to end all nights.
A gleaming eye so careful and hindered;
For the fox it moves with grace.
A creature of elegance,
Of stealth and remembrance.
The memory fades not from a fox so ambivalent.
The rising of the night moon is halted yet,
By the terror of foes in the village.
To wield a weapon and be summoned by the tune,
Is to be the greatest disaster of all.
For a golden lake full of autumn leaves;
The fox protects it all.
YOU ARE READING
Cosmos
PoesiaMy third poetry book; inspired by a mixture of love and hate, and developed around the sole basis of the cosmos, which without, we would not exist. *All work is my own*
