A Winter’s Gem
In the wee hours before the sun rises on this Winter’s morn,
With gentle grace twirling through crisp cold air,
I saw the arrival of the first burst of snowflakes of the year,
In the garden, every leaf they adorn.
Delicate patterns intertwine like ribbons of white lace,
Fluttering and spinning in a...
With gentle grace twirling through crisp cold air,
I saw the arrival of the first burst of snowflakes of the year,
In the garden, every leaf they adorn.
Delicate patterns intertwine like ribbons of white lace,
Fluttering and spinning in a...