The trail

Brandishing my ears was a gentle touch of noise
Looking I caught the attention of tempting voice
Drawn towards it my feet sped in a scuttle
Scrambled was my hair by the breeze’s shuttle

Standing near the edge of that pristine hill
Felt the urge to roll the slope in loud shrill
In the midst of white snow to play with
My chilled cheeks rollicked in a funny mirth

Drenching in my own shower of love
I froze slowly in that haven beside a dove
Swaddling my memories avidly in the heart
My waddled footsteps made way to depart

Do not search for my story in those ledges
Or guffaw at the unruly mountain ridges
I have tied tightly a misty trail of my travel
Which my spirit visits alone only to unravel