~ Winter's Children ~

The beauty of winter,

snowflakes falling rapidly,

around my feet to scatter-

abroad as children casting,

abundant teardrops shining,

down over the ground and giving-

speaking just to me,

through each glistening, spectral arm,

kissing me with blustery arms- their cold lips-

telling me I should forget the love,

with which each flake teases,

flourishes and laps in the breeze, waves me,

further into the reaches deep-

and I rope along the hills but joyous,

until I can find it overhead-

that wonderful place where the children scatter,

until I hear their tune of,

flakes which fall to the tune of dance,

and I indulge myself in their swift light,

that opens up before me, in a vibrant kaleidoscope,

reds, blues, gold, and mineral-greens through white mass,

and I am dancing to the tune of the angels,

or what I call God's children,

softly snow-nestled.