17 December 2012
A wizened old man stands tall and proud His beard long and straggly and slightly sad His eyes speak of things best not said out loud For he's as old as the hills and nearly as proud
His breath feels like ice to freeze your cold bones Fingers all gnarled and twisted with a groan He walks with a stick of ancient black alder Tells Tales of the old folk and legends of crones.
Snowy wild landscapes his home on the mountain Waterfalls of ice that spew down like a fountain He lets out a sigh from deep down within His breath covers all with Winters iron hand
Old Man Of The North • Opuss № I