In the quiet breath of winter’s night,
Beneath the stars that softly gleam,
Lies a world of purest white,
Where ice and snow weave a dream.

Crystals form on window panes,
Etching stories in the frost,
Each flake a tale of distant rains,
In frozen time, never lost.

The lake, a mirror smooth and cold,
Reflects the moon’s tender glow,
Secrets of ages long untold,
Hidden deep beneath the snow.

Beneath the ice, life still stirs,
A silent world in winter’s hold,
As nature’s breath in whispers purrs,
A tale of beauty, calm, and cold.