Black Loch

After weeks of sweet serenity
The black loch is mightily agitated
By a cold north westerly, whipping
Up her frocks and throwing her petti
Coats onto the craggy virgin shore.
Now there are waves not waking ripples.

The autumn equinox just passed
Has heralded in the onset of winter
And sent her mad the icy madam.
Scurrying for omens in the bellies
Of the clouds, the queen deplores snow
Berries swollen like Nature’s aching nipples.