Beneath the silent stars, a chill descends,
January’s breath, a whisper of frost.
The world in white, a canvas of dreams,
Nature’s quiet song, a serene cost.

Trees stand tall, their branches bare,
Embracing the cold with a gentle grace.
Under the moon’s soft, silver glare,
Winter’s beauty, a timeless space.

Footsteps crunch on pathways bright,
As dawn breaks through the icy veil.
Each crystal whisper, a dance of light,
January’s tale, a frosty trail.

Hearts warmed by fireside’s glow,
Amidst the season’s quiet charm.
In January’s arms, time moves slow,
A cold embrace that keeps us warm.