The Ice Age

After a week in which I was snowbound, a pessimistic poem about the weather...

The Ice Age


Snow swiftly falls across the land
Cold has come to chill the bones
Darkness stretches out an icy hand
Outside, the blizzard howls and moans

The mighty oak has fallen down
Skies are thick with dark grey cloud
It is like Miss Haversham's gown
As snow descending, like a shroud

Fear walks along this frosty world
And brings despair, prepares the way
As riding in with banner unfurled
Death, the horseman, here today

The bells have rung, the hour is late
And all are gripped in frozen fate