| NEW WON LAND Cool, bright, clear and Arctic white; Winter squares up for the fight. Colours to calm tales yet untold; Domains to claim from Autumn's hold. She takes the ring and faces Fall; She wins the toss but wants it all. Now woken, Winter fierce and fresh; With frigid fingers flays Fall's flesh She fakes a left then fires a right; A final blast of icy might. Fall takes it squarely on the jaw; The canvass calls She fights no more. Victorious, Winter hands held high, cold cotton cape takes to the sky. From mountain peak to sea damp sand; Her blanket settles new won land. |