bleak
frosty moan
hard as iron
a stone
snow on snow,
on snow,
bleak
long ago?
God cannot hold,
nor earth.
flee away
When He comes!
bleak
sufficed
Enough
night and day,
milk
and hay;
adore.
What can I give,
Poor?
I would bring…
do my part…
what can I give?
my heart.
This entry is a bit of erasure poetry in two different formats using the text of Christina Rosetti’s “In The Bleak Midwinter“.
I like it. Hope you enjoy.
defying atrophy 
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