Slowed dawn creeps upon frosted pine and pane;
Hushed world slumbers ‘neath enshrouded lawn
While life above stirs and shovels its brumal way.
Hung is the holly, glad tidings flow o’er hill and dale
‘Midst soft flakes swirling in merry dance,
Warming the frozen, the bleak and pale.
Boughs give way to crystal, winter’s coat they wear.
‘Cross lake’s frozen sheet huddled fishers gather;
Snowmen, sleds and skates dare to face sun’s bright stare.
Reflective rejuvenation, aims for higher good may we keep;
Simple joys and spring dreams cradled in shushed barren time
And ‘neath black sky of crisper starts man drifts off to sleep.


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