Ice Queen

When brittle frost seeps through the earth

And clouds pelt heaven with white birth,

Then it is she will awaken

And her padded steps be taken

On a journey short and shaken

Through the highways of the town.

 

When in darkness sight is lost

And each sharp breath bears winter’s cost,

Then it is she works her wonder

slippery, sloping, over, under,

Without trace of flash or thunder

On the highways of the town.

 

When the pale of morning’s hem

Comes brushing through the world again,

Then it is, her work completed,

She withdraws to leave all greeted

By their passage quite defeated

Through the highways of the town.

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