An ode to Lofn,

To what shall I liken thee Lofn?
Thy cold breeze lighted and softened
That sends the air to run
Cooling hearths, an unusual turn
Of thy way to spread winter's song
To what shall I liken thee, Lofn,
As thou take and pull me along
To the land of Edda, albeit norse
As thou cause a winter to hold up, stilled, a pause,
Like a Fiore, overwhelming the canvas wide
With colors of his beateous mind  laid up alright,
Like a mariner upon arrival at a place
Hearing the murmur of Lethe, a bless,
Like a man yet to make out
What can cause lotos petals to sprout
Lines in a heart like offshoots
Of too much poetic a root,
To what shall I liken thee, Lofn,
Thy cold breeze lighted and softened
Whence sings winter's song warm.