Like a ribbon that's spun
Of the purest of silk,
The road crossed the cold bleak dale
It appeared that the frost
On the wintry panes
Was embossed with images from beyond the pale
And the winter-sky,
Lit with the moon and the stars,
Made the icicles glow in the night-
And the beauty of all
Of that December view
Was perceived in the essence of light-
And deceived by the soft...firelight.
Is pleasing to the eye
But this thing of beauty
Will cruelly linger
For harshly caressed
Is the naked earth
When touched
By winters icy finger
Lightly covering every acre
A generous white dusting, as if
Sugared by a cake decorator.
Snowflakes gently float,
Pure white down of angel’s wings,
Down from heavens height
Frosty kaleidoscope images
Appear
on the frozen panes,
Touched
by winters icy fingers,
In
the bitter season’s domain
