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A Winter Dress

On the night Death came to visit
Walking down a long, cold street she wore a Winter dress
Her hair was white as light falling on snow covered yards
Where the trees bowed to her bare beauty and seemed to weep
Tears for one who ever was in Life as though asleep,
Yet still found I deep comfort in such chilled loveliness
Wanting only what was always never in the cards
When she spoke within her voice there were tones and chimes
That covered endless pages of all the books which made
Kingdoms where the skies and suns shone bright their light charade
Wise words were wrought from what was thought, telling the times,
One day the thread ruins to ravel and the river winds to end
I wanted once to hold her just to feel what I had to pretend,
Her voice ask me, "Now, what is it?"
On the night Death came to visit
Walking down a long, cold street she wore a Winter dress . . .

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers