Winter-brook

 (Sometimes I come here, just to listen...video is a little jerky at first but eventually 'smooths' out)

She tunes the hollow winter hush

In rushing, gushing glee

Laughing beneath thicket and brush

A prisoner set free

Where cattails drained her summer cup

Autumn’s release has filled her up

And now she spills her lullaby

Meandering out to the sky

Winter eases its rigid stance

And from its frozen swell

A lilting cadence of romance

Sweeps through the dormant dell

A surge of passion-perfect pitch

Embellishes the laud-less ditch

Of silenced wood-song’s dismal dirge

She sings with grief-abandoned urge

Now high, now low, hastening, slow

Enchanting melody

As splashing, dashing love-songs flow

In sonnets to the sea

Lest soon the northern gales entice

To seal her lay in shrouds of ice

She finds, somewhere, a lenient nook

To hum the hymn of winter-brook

© Janet Martin