Winter Coat

   With snow white frost nestled under shade and Egrets searching the ice filled dykes that line every jet black acre, the cold north west winds sweep the fenland on this day of rest like winter's own besom broom. The blackbird rambles like a drunken sailor through the berry clad branches while those of baptist faith entre cold chapels where brick and timber house great words of priphets and disciples.
   My mind dreams of the past souls who stood in this cold fen air, breath rising from every word as fingers bare the winter coat that we all wear, a coat that colours the cheeks and fills the lungs, with coldness, but one that keeps us healthy and fen tigers strong.