1
Once upon a time, it was evening and very cold one
For the Ice king was out, on his stroll thru his kingdom
And the Snow witch heralded his welcome; flying before him
Hanging up on trees, weighing down tree branches
Making even huge trees to come crashing down
And painting the whole forest immaculate white
Wood cutters marched home, trying to beat the cold
The snow fell trying to hide the pathways from them
*
Now the wind made the snow sail, smashing into the faces of the men
Across the frozen lake, a stray hound pack sniffed about
Seeking shelter from the sinister cold which grew with time
2
‘Ah, ah, ah!’ The wolf pack leader grunted
‘This is monstrous weather, why is the cold so sinister,
And why is the government not working on it?’
‘The Ice king is angry perhaps’ one of the wolfs replied
As they all sat down with their tails in between their hind legs
‘The Ice king is mad! He is being irrational’ another said
‘I wonder who must be irrational! The one who hunts others or… ‘
A squirrel was cut off her statement when the pack looked up,
From another tree, an Owl watched the dramatic wolves as they huddled
The mice living on the tree roots hid away from snow and wolves
And the night was just starting to wake…
3
The Night shows mercy to none who sought refuge in her
The inhabitants of the woods knew this very well
The Ice king himself was an admirer of the rocky mountain
But the mountain has taken no notice of him, she was cold herself
The Ice king will sit for hours, musing over her, wishing up and down
Blowing secret kisses to the wind to send to the mountains side
But the mountain was concerned only with the snow and her cold
From the tall tree tops the doves huhuhu each other
Calling, greeting the snow and her queer emissaries
Everyone wondered why the night was cold, why it hurt them so
4
The pathways to the village was covered with thick snow
And the men sought about, lost and eagerly wishing for home;
For the warm mushroom soup awaiting them
And the hot bath and a mug of strong black ale
But the cold night will not let them find their way home
It enticed them, showed them strange caves, apple trees
And the weakling of deers which could have been easy sport
But the men refused all her offers, determined to see their home,
They climbed trees to see the vast land of white mass
Looking for stray smoke from chimneys or sight of lamps
Though the wind seemed to take that off their sight too
But once, one yelled with joy as he found a glittering light
And the whole bunch followed him, walking fast in that direction…
5
And when the woodcutters made it to the hamlet at last
Walking noisefully through closed gates and homes,
They counted their good luck out in the fields,
Trotting faster as their tongue longed for soup
*
Now from the inn in the village they could hear men sing
Drinking ale from cauldrons, they sang of the white snow
Her malevolence, her treachery, her trickery and her cold heart
They sang of her cold hands and the times it must be intense
And why all; men, flora and fauns must not trust her smiles
Commentary
Happy Christmas eve, everyone. I hope you have fun reading this tale.