Snowscape Pine
Magdalena waited,
On flower speckled slopes,
Upon the rocks of Glittertind,
Awake with earnest hopes…
A father sick and pensive,
Ischemic heart disease,
Tarried in her roving thoughts,
Before the jutting trees,
Playing in the winter air,
Three starlings swooping by,
Capering and wheeling,
In the soft Norwegian sky,
Angels soft and sylphs of air,
I beg you for assistance!
Old Paracelsus wrote of you,
And praised your fair existence,
I set myself before you now,
So sore and spent with worry,
Nervous and lamenting,
In this vast and gloomy quarry,
I put my hands aloft to you,
In genuine surrender,
Praying in unfeigned dismay,
Revering of your splendour!
Pray lean in to father dear,
Within the still of night,
Lend him strength to face the day,
To rally and to fight,
Lend to him your highest love,
Your best and truest vigour,
Enough to see him through the cold,
A dose of Godly succour,
I set myself on bended knee,
Before you in devotion,
I’ll worship you with fire and force,
And pour out my emotion…
Pray find the Hallvard residence,
Away behind the town,
Encased in lingonberry bush,
And Norway spruces brown,
Work your magic, work your might,
Embolden him with praying,
Set his illness far from him,
His sickness softly slaying,
She stood in silence, facing west,
Towards the full moon shine,
Compassionately weeping,
Before the snowscape pine.
AD Lovkis, 26/05/25
adamdaniel 