Photograph by Lynn Trowbridge.
A WINTER NIGHT
On Radnor hills,
Snow lying deeply on the ground.
Dazzling white purity all around,
No vague whisper of a sound,
Otherworldly silence, so profound
My presence seemed a rude intrusion
In this hushed world of pale illusion.
I would not through this white world go
With footfall soft on virgin snow,
Lest charm of this mesmeric scene
Should vanish as a fading dream.
And so I lingered long and still,
This magic sight my soul to fill.
Watched coruscate stars jewel black velvet sky;
Heard the hoot of an owl from a tree close by
Call for a mate in the stilly night,
Then eerily, silently, take ghostly flight.
And I, from this awesome temporal sphere,
(Which all too soon might disappear),
Withdrew behind transparent screen
To ponder on this awesome scene
And sketch the picture, thus defined,
On the open canvas of my mind.
By Lynn Trowbridge