Jungo, Jungo, Esqua Jammay.

Winter Poems

The snow remains in shade for years,
we walk on it, tip-toeing to our homes
through ice and moons
and trees against our deep blue sky.
It should be this time always,
never going forward
to the deep, black cold of midnight.
We are furthest from the sun today,
The Equinoxe has come again
and answered all our Winter wishes.
The world defined, is sharp,
in focus, The Valley, Visible
for miles in massive darkness,
calls us like a dream of stars.

We wish again for ships,
blown gently in the southern winds,
baked and born by Ocean sun;
The breezes drunk in white,
and perfumed with the gazes
of our lovers left at home.
We have, in this verse,
found the passion, lost so long ago,
the trails of wintering
and of definite careers.
This is the book we all must read,
the story of the age.
The snow remains in shade for years,
we walk on it, tip-toeing to our homes.