Eileen Fry

Winter landscapes stark and bare,
Horizons edged with trees
Black filigree they wear
Threadlike trails of spider lace.

Dark brooding skies , finger edged
Deep haunting light they show
Storm threatened , awkward slanting sun,
Dazzling gleams reflected glow.

Ungainly gridiron monsters
Stalk large across the land,
Grasping many silver cobwebs
Like ghostly braided bands.

November sun makes shadows
Flit and shiver oer the grass,
Revealing long lost patterns
Dug by Ancients in the past

Eileen Fry.