White Lace
Winter cloaked in the whitest lace
Spreads its folds across the land
Transforming the earth's tired face
In beauty she makes her quiet stand
For those who weep for summer lost
And long for days of idle breath
Those days come at winter's cost
She sings the songs of living death
For naught we argue with the wind
And rail at ice that will not weep
Hoping these days will soon rescind
And her buried promises keep
Winter dances with solemn grace
Dressed in her white gown of lace
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