Upon a December Morn

I wake to crystals upon the white-dusted fields; Billowing fog creeps around a logged-cabin. The blazing fire of the smoky chimney yields The frigid dews that drips from the icy pellets Of the rosy ruby ribbon made from satin. Overcasting clouds of haze grants us snow. For the caramel drops upon the cocoa fox, Scatters for warmth to bare it must grow. To leave home to his vixen of bronze socks That whimpers and howls through the winds blow. Pebbles upon the icy stream skip and hop down, The scouring cloves of gems with a drop profound The earthly pleasures by the river bank of frost. By tall conifers meeting the paths that crossed, To other lands beyond the wintry battles around.