Sonnet IV

Caught in surprise by Winter's wretched witch,

Breath of whom has frozen the tears she's cried.

Hope is lost within the night black as pitch;

From her true love, wicked fate to divide.

Her life but a dismal speck far away;

Trapped in the ice is a life not chosen.

Without flight, she'll die, soaring bird of prey.

Without fight, she'll try with no emotion.

New day cries mournful in a seasick sky;

A warm ray of light, to thaw may commit.

Her precious heart must crack this ice to fly!

Behold! Gossamer wings again sunlit!

A high flying bird will prove transcendent,

Not turning the page, she'll live resplendent.