Winters Magic Wand

What dreams of beauty or wildest imagination could ever match these wonderful ageless scenes, Of a fairy tale forest glittering and sparkling in an evergreen mead showing off its silvery pines, A blue diamond frost bathed in the whitest moonlight, backed by a trillion bright twinkling stars. The foliage of the trees touched by winter’s magic wand, from an ice queen on a cold January night, As a boy I saw these nights in the clear sky and it looked like a dome with blue lighted candles, Reflecting off a frosted carpet that glinted and dazzled sometimes catching a roe deer’s wide eyes In those long gone days I felt no cold watching a fairy tale wonder of a cold clear, sharp night, But these moments have misted in my older years, my wiser years, but never completely forgotten. Speeding to old age wisdom is my gift I was uncluttered and so very much wiser back in those days, I sometimes try to think hard about my boyhood memory but it needs a clear mind for clear sight, Taking me back to the meadows in time staring in wonder at those silvery sparkly evergreen trees, Again I think as a young boy who does not feel the cold, smelling scents from frozen pine needles. My future is written and I understand why the memory of this night must be so very vivid today, Because I know when those final moment arrive my eyes gently cloud, and close for the last time, I will dream a twilight dream between both of my worlds' then soar back upon the winds of time, To stand again in evergreen woods reliving my moonlit scenes, again still not feeling the cold.