All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken,A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
frost glitter gold lost poetry roots strength strong wander wither
Unless you're the lead dog the view never changes.. Mercy out does justice every time: always find your way back home/
frost metaphor poetry
It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.
anotnius-and-calypia cold coldness december february forest freezing frost january maidens payne play poetry roman roman-payne snow sylvan theatre wandering winter
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.
cold frost frozen harry-potter november rain weather winter
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
birches frost individuality
.. December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory..
breath cloud december frost memory summer winter
All right, you deadly little ghostlings, I muttered. Mama says go back to - Cat
bones cat frost ghosts jeaniene-frost night-huntress zombies
The wind makes you ache is some place that is deeper than your bones. It may be that it touches something old in the human soul, a chord of race memory that says Migrate or die - migrate or die.
autumn frost human-soul migrate wind
