Winter Time
The white out doors is covered with fluffy snow,
the cold winds will swirl and blow.
The pretty flowers in my garden will not grow,
there is no food for the old black crow.
The bright candles have a pretty glow,
they flicker and put on a dancing show.
The winter months go by so very slow,
there is no one out there to say hello.
Copyright © Paula Goldsmith | Year Posted 2023
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