Monday, August 20, 2007
Softly, lightly,
The crystals cover the land,
Slowly, gently,
Disappear the dirt and the sand.

The snowflakes fall, blurring the view,
Painting a world, wonderful and new.
Lazily from heaven the drops descend,
And in the land below they marvelously blend.

Far around from where the eye can see,
Forms a majestic white and peaceful sea,
Draping, slowly, the earth in its cloak,
The mountains, the pines, the fir and the oak.

And as in soft silence the world is enclosed,
A picture forms, more lovely than if eyes were closed.
Beauty itself seems to claim the world,
As under its soft cover it lies curled.

Later, when the drops cease to appear,
Still lies the world, not a step does stir…
Waiting, perhaps, for sleep’s hundred years to end,
For the enchantment to lift, for life to begin.

Yet the spell still holds, holding all in its spell,
And in the world all is wonderfully well,
The spell that nature has so intricately woven,
Seems to surpass all else just then.

And yet this curtain that allures the eye,
In which autumn’s bareness disappears, without a sigh,
What lies behind this childlike fairytale?
To notice which I cannot fail?

For from the icy sleet and hail,
The winter banshee seems to wail,
The wind howls and rails around,
As the snow takes its place on the ground.

For though the white heaven catches the first glance,
Drawing the enchanted viewer into a trance,
Yet the blackness looms just below,
Lurking under the pure white snow.

And the gaze travels to a half covered log,
Shivering in the mist, the snow and the fog,
To the icy depths of a pond now frozen,
To the gathering darkness, for spirits a haven.

And to the atmosphere of mystery that descends,
The cold, the mist and the howling winds lend,
Water wraiths and spirits and ghosts conglomerate,
In the wilds of hail, frost, snow and slate.

Outside the frost encrusted window pane,
These two conflicting worlds fight in vain.
Or is it that I imagine too much,
When reality takers flight on a night as such?

When confined to the confines of oneself,
Ideas invigilate, completely of the shelf.
When the fires are flaring and the blinds are down,
And in the world of imagination you’re free to drown.

But be that as it may be,
It is to be pondered, that mystery,
That attends the world with the snows,
And the key to that, I’d like to know.
posted by Clezevra @ 7:33 AM  
  • At August 26, 2007 at 9:01 AM, Blogger slartybartfarst said…

    Hi C, look, apologies for not yet fulfilling my promise. You are churning out the postings, good. The colour is blue of course unless you are a woman, in which case it's pink. Evidently there is scientific evidence. Who'da believed it?

  • At August 27, 2007 at 3:52 AM, Blogger Vikrant said…

    When confined to the confines of oneself,
    Ideas invigilate, completely of the shelf.
    When the fires are flaring and the blinds are down,
    And in the world of imagination you’re free to drown.

    Was just browsing through and discovered your blog. I like the way you write. Says a lot but leaves room for the reader to think as well. I liked the enchanting colour post more than this one though.

  • At August 27, 2007 at 5:10 AM, Blogger Death On Two Legs said…

    Hey Clezevra, Hello after a VERY VERY long time. I've been going through your blog and its brilliant. So mature, and good use of imagery and sound. I'm very impressed.

    Anyway I wanted to say-
    Read Neutral Tones, and Snow in the Suburbs by Thomas Hardy..poems I think you will like.

    For sometihng more intense, read Browning, Wilfred Owen and later-Ted Hughes.

    Also, please take up Elective English in class XI.

    Also...about your slipper and the wave, something loads more exciting happened to me-I was carrying a form for Save The Tiger in my hand, a really important one and when I was sitting in the car, I accidentalyl let go of it-it flew out through thr left window and came out through thr right one.

  • At August 30, 2007 at 3:11 AM, Blogger boojam said…

    Hi, C. It's nice to be missed. I'm still in UK, can't fly for fear of blood clots. I'll be back in Q8 on 13th Sept and I'll hit the cafe again and maybe inspiration will flow. I've been keeping a written diary. An aide memoire. I have an 18 year old daughter, who monopolises the PC and also, I find the atmosphere in the house is not conducive to blogging, too much going on. So, I'll see you in a couple of weeks, if not before, (because now you are making me feel guilty!) C

  • At October 13, 2007 at 8:09 AM, Blogger Dibbasatya said…

    a very well wrritten one!!!!

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