From green of fall to a blanket of white
We watched old man winter do his thing
Pure beauty personified in nature’s canvas
As the north winds gaily sing
We sat their sipping cocoa
With the curtains open wide
The woodstove softly flickering
What a joyous way to hide
By midnight all was covered
By two six inches more
Four found us softly drifting
Into dreamland that’s for sure
A nudge woke me in the morning
Outside was blinding white
Twelve inches of such radiance
Had fallen through the night
Now it’s time to dress in layers
To pay for beauty’s cost
If I can still find the snowblower
Somewhere beneath the snow it’s lost.
Ron
Take care,
Sherry