In the quiet of the frosted dawn,
Where snowflakes dance on a gentle breeze,
The world is wrapped in a silvered gown,
A tranquil hush among the trees.

Crystals glisten on branches bare,
Their icy fingers touch the sky,
The breath of winter fills the air,
A lullaby where time drifts by.

Footsteps crunch on powdered paths,
Echoes in the winter’s chill,
Beneath the sky’s vast, endless bath,
The world stands still, serene and still.

In this realm of white and gray,
Dreams are woven in the cold,
A fleeting glimpse of nature’s play,
A story of beauty, quietly told.