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The Ballad of The Holly King
February 12, 2014
A cold winter chill, envelops my bones
As I follow the foot falls of the man of Mistletoe
Boldly he strode through his win’try lands
His sure step falters, for a moment he stands
Because his freezing reign, is creeping towards its end
So he surveys his kingdom, his final breath he sends
He has been undermined, by the Earth’s rotation
So he watches heat desecrate his creation
He still holds some sway for a while longer
And in this time he’ll sit and ponder
Still his icy breath doth plague us
But till Spring comes it continues thus
© Thomas S., Portville, NY
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