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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

Winter's Moot

Long the hours of our drinking
and our feasting in the west lands

Sun bright afternoon long fading
into memories of gladness

Evening stars now shine above us
where the high winds blow the cloud wrack

Hands are shaken at our parting
‘ere our journeys cross the mountains

Kisses to the fairest women
‘ere we meet again in springtide

Travellers fare east and west now
each towards their hearth fire blazing

Bitter is the north gale blowing
whipping hair into our faces

Bent before its teeth of ice now
like the barren trees beside us

Onwards to our valley steading
where the where the dogs bark at our coming

Waits she there with arms of greeting
in her hair the smell of woodsmoke

In her eyes the darkness longing
in her breast a warm heart beating

To our bed of furs she draws me
‘neath the hills where wolves are howling

© Alan Hodgson

Image: "Birches in Snow", credits: NOAA, public domain

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