Winter, Winter
Winter, winter
frost, wind, snow
full of vigor, full of cold
How icy your face
which chills my bones;
The past echoes my frozen footfall
through whipping winds
I dare not go,
by farmers' fields
sleeping soft on thy white lap
winding woods crook and bend
barren trees, naked and hooked
I go,
By silver moon, all aglow
Winter, winter,
frost, wind, snow
full of vigor, full of cold
A warm hearth awaits me
(a cherish to you I owe)
how icy your face
which chills my bones
Shivering!Shivering!
all the way home
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
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