Winter's Finger Poem by james watkin

Icicle-ringed, a finger rose;
Twas Winter's arthritic.
Demanding the scaled, Jurassic
Among a hedgehog shape
To find its own hole, before is
Snowed on it grave-clothing!
With sharper directive aiming
At man, as stiff-made ape.

What it upwields thereafter in
Sword's air-flow, for tearing
In cross-cutting Blanc's bearing
Or an alp, peerless hilled
Holds not back on what digresses
In a sacred scaled place!
Stopped in its tracks, one beast's to trace.
The afore-quipped self-willed.