WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake.

Their long limbs tremble from the next quake.

Their bodies blaze a frosted white.

With tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

I’m surrounded on four sides by white. 

The bright glare has blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

As I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

But I must go where the wind might blow.

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake,

their long limbs trembling from the last quake.

Their bodies blaze a glaring white

with tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

Surrounded on four sides by white, 

the bright glare blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

as I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

but I must go where the wind might blow.

ICY COLD

Ice Fire

Cold.

Icy cold.

My toes feel numb.

My fingers tingle.

The wind howls.

Sleep tempts me.

But I must continue.

A few more steps.

Silence wraps its arms around me.

I raise my face to the sky.

The colors take my breath away.

FROZEN FOR ETERNITY

Sad expressions for eternity

on frozen faces.

Actual tears mark

their frosty cheeks.

Beneath the music and gaiety

lies an undercurrent of evil.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

TIMES HARD TO BEAR

A town where the snow is black,

bringing coldness & fear.

Old remnants of tears held back

& times too hard to bear.

Woven from black sheets of rain,

fear covers in disarray.

Anguished & frozen with pain,

dark petals fall in dismay.

THE DEAD GAME SERIES

FROZEN IN FEAR

Sad expressions for eternity on frozen faces.

Actual tears mark their frosty cheeks.

Beneath the music and gaiety, 

lies an undercurrent of evil.

THE DEAD GAME

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THE MIGHTY WILL FALL

Collapsing Giants. Greenland. [1080×108] Photo by Daniel Kordan

The mighty will fall

that had risen tall.

Melting to the sea

where no one can see

the majesty of your height

or the last breath of your fight.

Please do not leave us now.

Don’t take your final bow.

The earth is a sadder place

without your glowing, white face.

FOOTSTEPS IN THE SNOW

The brisk nip in the air,

as we trudge in the snow.

We feel an icy wind on our faces

as it pummels our bodies.

Someone else has done it.

We follow the footsteps,

a frozen trail in the snow.

AN UNDERCURRENT OF EVIL

halftimeprincess:

Guests dance

between frozen statues.

Statues of ice.

Sad expressions for eternity.

Tears flow on frosty cheeks.

Beneath the music and gaiety

lies an undercurrent of evil.

Time to leave this cold paradise

and escape, if one can.

Escape this deadly game

of The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

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 Nook

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Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-dead-game-1

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake,

their long limbs trembling for the next quake.

Their bodies blaze a glaring white

with tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

Surrounded on four sides by white, 

the bright glare has blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

as I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

but I must go where the wind might blow.

THE DEAD GAME SERIES

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07PDNPV59?ref_=series_rw_dp_labf

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A DEAFENING SILENCE

Desolate.

Alone.

Empty.

No neighbors.

The wind rattles my walls.

Snow layers my roof.

No peace.

Cold.

Icicles hang low.

A deafening silence.

Will winter end?

Will the horses return?

I wait and hope.

SNOWFLAKES

Source:averymerrylittlechristmas

SNOWFLAKES

Each unique.

No two alike.

Nature’s creation.

It is art for the world.

Falling softly to earth.

Showing off mid-air.

A little sparkle.

A little shine.

THE ICE HOUSE

The dance floor is full.

The guests twirl between statues.

Sad expressions etched into faces.

Tears flow down frosty cheeks.

An undercurrent of evil lies

beneath the music and gaiety.

Time to leave the perfect guests

and the frozen smiles.

Time to escape if one can.

THE DEAD GAME