Amidst the silent fall of snow,
Where whispers of the wind do blow,
A world of white begins to grow,
In winter’s gentle, coldly glow.

The trees adorned in icy lace,
Each branch a work of frozen grace,
Beneath the sky’s vast, endless space,
We find a quiet, calm embrace.

Footprints mark a fleeting trail,
Stories told in frost and gale,
In winter’s realm, where dreams set sail,
And time itself seems to curtail.

The hearth within, a beacon bright,
Fends off the long and frosty night,
While outside dances purest white,
In winter’s soft and tranquil light.