A Snow Ball From Ben Wyvis
A snow ball for the King
Secures the lands for Munro.
He holds forever the lands of Ferindonald.
With the perpetuity
And looks in amazement
At a kingdom of crystals
Held in his hand.
“For what” he asks,
“ Is more beautiful than midsummer snow
From the shade of a corrie
High on Ross-shires’s Queen?”
“Perhaps the ruff of gold round an eagle’s neck
Who looks unblinking upon the sun,
Or the gold of birch leaves turning in Autumn,
Or the banshee wail of the storm wind
Over the whale back mountain,
Whitened in winter.”
Certainly these are beautiful,
My lord, but these also are
Distilled in the essence of this snow
So give the King his due.
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