A picturesque valley scene
Like a fairyland of pure delight
Viewed through a window
To avoid the winter’s bite
A picturesque valley scene
Like a fairyland of pure delight
Viewed through a window
To avoid the winter’s bite
In the sheltered winter lowlands
Every inch and acre
Are dusted white, almost as if
Sugared by a cake decorator
Swooping Gulls screech alarms
High above the cliff top
As white horses ride the waves below
And the tide is broken to a stop
From the icy summit
Of the mountain high
It begins to trickle,
Toward its destiny,
Trickle becomes rivulet
Rivulet into stream
Gathering momentum
Descending quickly
Its method brilliant
In its simplicity
Following the path
Of least resistance
On its purposeful descent
Growing ever stronger
In the great race
To its destination
Influenced by gravity
As it powers on
Ever deeper, ever wider
Ever more rapidly
To form great rivers
Heading for their destiny
Which is fulfilled
When reaching the open sea
The majestic distant mountains,
Timeless sentinels, pale in the mist
Reach up to the sky like children
Expectantly waiting to be kissed
In the glow of firelight
I admire the stark beauty
Of the winter landscape
Beyond the frosty panes
Safe by the cosy fireside
Under the star filled winter sky
Moonlight illuminates the vale
Magically glinting on Icicles
And the crystals of icy rime
The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...