The Queen of Ice

The air still grasps last season’s chill,
and though of ice we’ve had our fill
the clouds yet have some frost to spill
and snow still settles on the hill
-----where the winds of winter blow.
Our windows rattle in the night
as storms blot out the world with white
but still I wait to catch a sight
-----of the Queen of Ice and Snow.

The Queen is lovely, it’s been said:
her face is pale, her lips are red,
a golden crown rests on her head
and white wolves pull her silver sled
-----where the winds of winter blow.
And when a cold gust grips the air
you may be sure that she is there,
shaking out her silver hair,
-----the Queen of Ice and Snow.

But Winter’s lease seems far to short
for the Ice Queen and her court--
they are a cold and gusty sort
who wish more time for frozen sport
-----while the winds of winter blow.
I fear she may have found the thing
to prolong her Kingdom, triumphing:
She seeks to conquer over Spring
-----as Queen of Ice and Snow!

Her first attack shall be to crush
the flowers with their springtime blush.
Some bitter ice will serve to hush
the wild meadows, green and lush
-----where no winds of winter blow.
To slay this season’s priceless jewel
a storm of frost is just the tool,
with winds and strong and cold as cruel
-----as the Queen of Ice and Snow.

And when the rose admits defeat
the Queen shall turn to fields of wheat
where the first hints of peaceful heat
now stir the grass with breezes sweet
-----while no winds of winter blow.
She’ll use a heavy, burdened cloud
to hide the grain beneath a shroud
of frozen rain as white and proud
-----as the Queen of Ice and Snow.

And when the snow has served her well
the trees will feel her icy spell.
The winds will grow and start to swell
more fierce the human tongue can tell
-----as the winds of winter blow.
They’ll tear away each tender leaf
and leave the trees to moan with grief.
She is a cold and cunning thief,
-----the Queen of Ice and Snow.

A plan must be made to appease
this murderer of crops and trees
who makes the very flowers freeze
before she brings us to our knees
-----as the winds of winter blow.
And yet, what gift could we devise,
we mortals neither strong nor wise?
What gift could be a fitting prize
-----for the Queen of Ice and Snow?

Not ruby, red as spring’s fair rose,
or emerald, green as grass that grows,
or gold, like summer’s sun it glows,
or sapphire, blue as the sky’s repose
-----when no winds of winter blow.
Then how can we this Queen entice?
Only one gift would suffice:
a chain of diamonds, clear as ice
-----for the Queen of Ice and Snow!