[Corneac]

Poetry and Winter,
act like brothers some days,
best mates-
“Crack open a beer or two…
comment on the weather, of all things…”

Others, they are rivals, that match straw for straw,
I’m colder – taunts Winter, wind in his hair,
Bolder – counters Poetry, staring straight
into the stare of spring, when Winter
dare not utter his name,

and Winter kicks the footy farther,
with a sly wink to the breeze,
and sends Poetry slipping,
ball rolling, fingers fumbling,
of the newly dewed frost
that for a his go,
adorns the grass and the trees,

but when asked to recount a memory,
Poetry kills the truth,
mauls it in metaphor,
imagery – painting with simile,
and when turn reaches Winter,
and words sow their seeds,
the cold steps in,
chills the future with his grin,
and harvest – like failed poetry,
sprouts weeds in springs
of a now, thawing memory,

Then one day, Winter met a girl,
one that softened ice,
until she could squish it in her hands,
one that melted moods
so it dried, and trickled away – sands,
that under the same wind as Winter,
were rearranging dunes,
as Poetry thought, much too soon,

She warmed his words,
and the stoked the mage’s fire,
She was nymph, a forest fair,
and angel, who laid heaven bare,
and still she brought season dancing
as in her grasp, following, without a care,

She became the muse,
She became a liar,
She warmed his heart,
but still, she burnt, like fire,
he could smoke her like a cigarette,
and then he’d crave once more,
while his warring brother Bard,
wooed her word and heart,

he came across them,
making “so called poetry”,
and like a winter snowstorm,
unpredicted, he blew the scene,

Scream, scream, scream,
and naught see but a snowflake,
Poetry stood bare,
words worst for wear,
and challenged Winter,
to fight, wind for word,
chill for brrrr,

“Fight me for the ladies favour,”

“She fucked me first, you fucking saviour”

His cut deep, and his iced the wound,
He struggled for callousness,
but only beauty seemed to loom-

Winter took his chance,
and weaved cold in his rival,
Leaving Poetry wheezing,
his stolen breath of steam,
the only hint of his survival,

and in a whirl of fleeing heat.
Summer ran, a mirage of legs
and shimmering feet,
like the cactus playing cowboy
and the sand of the sandless oasis,
She ran, and Winter was left
without a summer to save it,

The fallout had come swiftly,
as he now recounts the memory,
hunched over in the frosty half-light,
with poetry, his brother,
sitting right by,
ever-present, iridescent,
and Summer sings, now forbidden hymns,
but poetry sits right by thee,
and word for word,
recites for me,

[Venomous Vixen]

OK OK I made it to this one. Like I mentioned before, length scares me, far too much of a commitment for this girl But I was glad you pouted until I made it through this one, it was very interesting and almost like an on screen act between poetry and winter. Somehow it seems to sum up the last handful of poems you have writing, and clarifies them and you.

comment on the weather, of all things…”

this had me giggling, because that is what people do, talk about the damn weather, of all things lol.

I’m colder – taunts Winter, wind in his hair,
Bolder – counters Poetry, staring straight
into the stare of spring, when Winter
dare not utter his name,

Fantastic. Images, action... again I get that whole stage play thing here.

Poetry kills the truth,
mauls it in metaphor,
imagery – painting with simile,

Again, just incredible... the painting with a smile!

Then winter met a girl - loved this image, the ice melting, almost like mean winter turned and smiled... and the muse/liar bit, again, very clever.

Then naming her "Summer" anyhow this is another I could pick and pull at for hours but I am going to leave it here, this was just wow...

[Nupur]

Whoa! WHOA! I really have no other words. This is wonderful, beautiful, terrific, lovely and everything else. The entire tale, told so well! And I always love your rhymes. Stunning flow and some great thoughts in there.

“She fucked me first, you fucking saviour”

Haha, I burst out laughing here. Nice little touch in between. My jaw was hanging when I came across it; felt nice to laugh a little. And then after that you left my jaw hanging again. Amazing, really.