The Frozen Lake
Somewhere a cold wind is blowing
And darkness is flowing
Over a frozen lake,
Which is gazed upon
By a girl dressed in silk and lace:
Her face etched in
The panes of solid ice;
Long hair billowing upwards
In the currents of the rising storm.
She is forlorn and small
Amidst the stalwart trees.
Suddenly the surface of the ice
Is disturbed by a pale hand
Which shoots upwards at the water’s edge;
Without hesitation, the girl
Clasps it tightly and is gone.
Copyright (c) Mary Cochrane 2015. All rights reserved.