A poem for winter.
Cold, clear, crisp
Bright, breezy but brisk.
Nothing can compare, never,
to this wonderfully white, wintry weather.
Jack Frost spreads his wintry veil
over field, meadow, hills and dale.
Falling like a dewfall drape
creating a perfect panoramic landscape.
Frosty forests.
Wintry wasteland.
Coated coasts of
snowy sand.
Gritted gravel paths.
Slippy sidewalks.
Clear, crispy covering of white chalk.
The wintry weather, brisk and bright,
creeping up quietly in the night.
Leaving behind its white sheet
of snow, hail, frost or sleet.
Nothing can compare, never,
to this wonderfully white, wintry weather.
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