‘Twas March, the blotted Sun
passed the Earth with frozen stare,
like a cop passed under swear
to protect and serve, the one
who inspected Earth with care.
Humming steadily in cold dawn
were the voices, mumbled speech,
at the buzzing distance each
as from ditch and all around,
as from dark and nameless pitch.
‘Twas brightened face of Earth,
lured shelter to live in
with sun shining, frost and wind
for eternity and forth,
balancing on rays to swing.
Bared branches of birch trees
waved to skies get down and settle,
jingling like a piece of metal
and repeating always “please”
swinging Earth like baby-cradle.
And as soon as dropped sunset
softly switched off all the lights,
crisply crackled stars on nights
turned the Moon away off bed,
giving mystery her sight;
and the Moon, cold as the ice cream,
strolled in white along the surface,
guarding thus hers North Pole’s office
as the master - Snowy Queen -
with her blizzards stormy promise.
16.04.2019 г.