A Cold Day In The Tower
The wind is blowing wildly
by Ivan Pine
And my eyes do fill with tears,
As a struggling sun shines mildly
The rocking calms my fears.
Trees bend and bow their branches
Thrown about by unseen touch
The eagles soar and take their chances,
Of human’s work, don’t care much.
A sea of patchwork meadows
Spreads out before your view,
Motley shapes and many shadows
Of hills both far and few.
Hurrying clouds all torn and wan
Pierced and stretched by winds on high,
Cover a sad and pasty sort of sun
That dominates a cobalt sky.