I was thinking about a comment that Fran, one of the bloggers whom I follow, made the other day about snow – that when it snows, the light reminds her of the colour on the inside of a mussel shell. True, that, I thought. So I wrote a poem about it, “The Colours of Cold”.
It’s been a long time since the words for a poem have come to me and stuck in my head until I wrote them down. Thanks for the inspiration, Fran.
Note on the form: Written in couplets (pairs of rhyming lines) with an end-rhyme scheme, and 5 syllables per line, in 5 stanzas of quatrains.
THE COLOURS OF COLD Mornings are palest shades of eau-de- nil Talcum-white snow puffs on the window sill Cloud breaks show glimpses of duck-egg-blue sky which fades to nacre like a drawn-out sigh as the shell of the sphere (a protective curl) renders the landscape in mother-of- pearl Then that muted glow meets the bone black night and so disappears the marmoreal light And only the moon rimmed in palest gold adds one more hue to the colours of cold
©Bear of Little Brain 2021