Poem introduction

I love to write mysterious poems. Here's a favourite from my second book, Midnight Forest.


Winter crept
through the whispering wood,
hushing fir and oak;
crushed each leaf and froze each web -
but never a word he spoke.

Winter prowled
by the shivering sea,
lifting sand and stone;
nipped each limpet silently -
and then moved on.

Winter raced
down the frozen stream,
catching at his breath;
on his lips were icicles,
at his back was death.

from Midnight Forest (Faber and Faber, 1987), copyright © Judith Nicholls 1987, used by permission of the author

Books by Judith Nicholls