Virgin snow forms a blanket of shimmery white.
Pine tree boughs are weighted down this night.
Not a creature stirred.
Not a sound heard.
A feeling as If I were standing within a snow globe.
A magical story to unfold.
Silvery snow falling upon my face,
Sticking to my eyelashes, creating white lace.
Crystal tear drops forming upon my cheeks,
Giving me a look of mystique.
Street lights disperses snowflakes in a whimsical dance.
Making my nighttime surroundings a fairytale-like sense.
As if a child has shaken the snow globe to see,
Falling snow crystals shimmering silvery white onto me.
Tiny miracles of light,
Fluttering, dancing earthward creating a magical sight.
By Connie Gildersleeve