It's Snowing
The white mist softly falls and fades
Dancing in a symphony
Each flake, a prima ballerina,
The world is an eclipse wondrous white,
Mysterious patterns make their way,
Disguising ordinary scenes,
Creating panoramic view
Where’er the eye may fall.
The world appears to wear a furry coat
Of ermine hue, fragile as the morning dew
Resting on the petal of a rose.
A solitary cadaver of spring
Slumbers beneath the blanket heaven sent,
God is in His glory and all the world
Reflects His purest image.
The air is fresh clinging to each bough,
There’s ne’er a garment which man
Could e’er allow to garb a mortal
In a cloak of such great majesty
Nor tell of such infinity as this world
Which is such a wondrous sight to see
When it’s fresh in snow.
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