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White trees of massive strength holding
tons of snow never cracking and toppling,
I'm captivated by their glossiness
more than the velvetiness of roses!

It's winter's invasive silence totally dire 
that ushes the murmurs of their leaves
so distinctly flamboyant and distinctly theirs,
and in Fall when those dazzling colors
fascinate, can make one stop and admire
their loveliness so unique and grand...
a comeliness found in a distant dreamland!  

Weather can change their green
into white, not their astonishing stateliness,
time certainly will in drastic ways;
but the nobility of appearance excels,
and it's never a muted anger of rudeness
retorted and suppressed by the cruel harshness
of a season not as clement as spring is...
and its unpleasantness can be clearly seen!

Truly, coldness is not felt by trees,
but brightness enlivens them with gleams
as it vitalizes an image of elegance given by
remote stars with a steady glow,
unless a bleak night hastily moves 
in and crystallizes all the puffy snow 
with no moon above, only a misty sky
that invites the remote sounds of an enraged wind
engaging in wits of blows with a frightening sound!   

When the frozen branches of the sturdy trees
start to defrost towards morning,
surely spring has arrived freeing
them from their misery and useless pleas;
they will begin to undulate and not be ravaged by storms...
gradually snow will melt showing the greenness of meadows!

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