The world is cloaked in a gentle white shroud,Whispers of winter in the stillness loud.Each flake a messenger from skies above,Carrying tales of peace, of quiet love.The trees stand adorned in crystal attire,Branches reaching like hands by the fire.Silence speaks in the breath of the cold,Stories of seasons, both new and old.Footprints etch paths in the virgin snow,Marking journeys of those who dare to go.A tapestry woven with steps and dreams,In the soft glow of the moonlight’s beams.Snowflakes dance in the hush of the night,A ballet of whispers, pure and light.In their descent, they tell a tale,Of winter’s song and its ethereal veil.