Winter Horizon
- Creative Writing to Inspire -

The winter horizon brings flame hues to the snow, pink-light spreading above and below. The scene is a daily soul-apple to keep the doctor at bay, it is a good vibration amid cold air’s graze. In the rays shine rosy before twilight’s hush, even an arctic mile can become wonderland’s touch. A field of flowers couldn’t be more pretty. As a tomorrow's portend it soothes frets as a lullaby - that red sky at night blossoming to the edge of sight.

 

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The horizon this winter is a rocky snow-grin, a gap toothed old man enjoying a gin. It jags as it pleases in great granite teeth, never gnashing yet steady amid the season's whimsical weather-feast. For it is happy enough to become a snow-ice table, to remain a vision for wanderlust fables. How it invites the imagination to climb, or better yet to learn the magic of imaginative flight, for the daydreams to gain extra sight. Do and dare? Or stand and stare? Either way it remains, merrily drinking in well distilled rays. 

 

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The winter horizon was wall to wall storm. A great haze of slate cloud only kept itself warm. Below the world shivered by night and day; for starlight, moonshine and lightrays were kept at bay. As far as the eye could see all was billowing-bleakness, at times far-illuminated by a lightning fork, glowing as a bruise about its form. The air blew cold and then colder still, promising the kind of rain that does more than chill. This panoramic storm was a storybook already written, pages turning by ghostly command. Such a tale would bring delight with the grace of fiction’s boundary-line, yet up there in the sky written in real ink, it stuttered the heart engine  to a cold-stall.