On a cold winter night,

the owl perched on the naked branch of a tree.

High above the stars blinking bright,

and hoot, hoot, hoot the owls sings.

Frost blankets the window,

and on the ground a hint of new fallen snow.

On a cold winter night,

I hear the whistling of the wind,

as snow spreads a blanket of white,

bringing the new morning in.