The Dance of Winter
When winter’s breath enfolds the land, In icy grip, a master’s hand; The world adorned in crystals white, A beauty pure, a tranquil sight.
Beneath the snow, the earth sleeps tight, Awaiting spring’s warm breath of light; In frosty air, the silence sings, In slumber deep, anticipation clings.
Yet see the magic winter weaves, In every bough, in every eave; For in the dance of chilling air, Life’s promise lingers, soft and rare.
- Philip Webb