Rows and flows of silver strands,
drifting on chilled wintry winds.
Fall from the heavens in gray bands,
waves of snow pile high across glens.
Great tree limbs creek in frosted glaze,
in silent forest deep in glistening array.
A wolf howls from a moonlit shadowed hill,
on silvery cliffs calling into the wilderness still.
Sounds carry far on crisp chilled winds,
cascading waters from the river's bend.
Sudden sound of an axe striking a tree,
woodsman cutting firewood from fallen debris
Sends creatures running from hiding in brier's deep,
and awakens a Doe and her Fawn where they sleep.
Quite of winter in natures pastorial cold slumber,
awakens the senses in a multitude of wintery wonder.
~~~Suseann~~~
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. Really superb explaination here, I am so glad to see that you are using your vocabulary. (It is so rare nowadays lol). I too enjoy the winter and its lonesome grandeur in the morning and in the late hours when the ice frost's onto the windows. Nature becomes so still and the animals are so delicate against the wintry background.
