Silence-smitten In Frozen Britain

Walking in Arctic-bitten,
Frozen Britain,
In the small hours,
In flurries of snow showers,
And through the chill,
The city lies still.
It's minus five degrees,
And refusing to ease.

Pacing along the icy shore,
Frigid-nosed and lips so sore,
I stop for a while,
In this land turned hostile.
And as I stare accross the bay,
Bewildered by the wintry array.
The glacial sea meets snow covered rocks,
There's no one in sight bar a hunting fox,
Not a sound anywhere,
Not a bird in the air,
In this city so vast,
I feel peace at last,
Serenity,
Tranquility!
I'm silence-smitten,
In Frozen Britain!