24 February 2013
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
The Old Man Of The North • Opuss № I