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A Winters Quiet
In quiet solitude the snow flakes fall
white feathers drifting slowly to the ground
while the trees in stark grander standing tall
sleep, by winters chilling cold tightly bound
And the winter, with fogged and frozen breath
brightly sheaths each branch so bare and brown
in ice as coldly hard and still as death
but shines as bright as any kingly crown
Dark skies stretching across the frozen land
lend a spectral light to this winter scene
that only by natures outstretched hand
will once again turn from white to green
For the contest "Pictures of Winter"
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