Autumn’s rich scent has passed, color dies,
Winter enters with splendor, gracing the terrain with shades of white and grey,
The air is ice, the blanket of white embracing the ground sparkles, trees sway,
This time of year is exuberant and wise.
Crystalline icicles cry with the endearing sunlight, they splinter,
Outside breath of the living turns to frost, the air gives a bite,
The shine upon untainted snow gleams fresh and so bright,
All adore the eloquence and passion of the iced over winter.
Copyright © Melissa Ross