Editor’s Note: Snow visited the Dismal Swamp with a sweep of moist tropical air. colliding with Canada’s frozen gusts. It caused the Muse to visit Arrias. Higher in the Piedmont, what was snow has been transformed by a dagger of adamant chill into adamant ice. The enforced solitude of the elements has produced activity from all the writers at Socotra House. This contribution from the Muse of verse is easily the most lyrical.

– Vic

The Muse of Arrias

Princess of the Snow

A cold north wind stirs the branches,
And carves the snow into exotic forms,
A glimpse of the Moon through scudding clouds,
The wood lashed by a winter storm.

In pre-dawn dark the dogs and I
Trudging through the drifts,
We circle ‘round the house,
They sniff, as if searching for gifts!

Through the darkness I see her,
Ghostlike she glides through falling snow,
It swirls around her, a halo,
For the Princess a heavenly show.

Soft, warm boots and a long gray skirt
Under a long white coat of mink,
Her blonde tresses framed by a large fur hood,
Of her beauty the whole wood doth drink.

Of her beauty I would sing,
For her beauty sets her apart,
For she is beautiful in every sense,
Fair of face and kind of heart.

More beautiful than any in heaven,
Or any other here below,
’Tis my Muse, my Love, My Lara,
’Tis my beloved Princess of the Snow.

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