Silent whispers through the air spinning up high
fallowed by lusters in the sky
reaching across throughout the tree's creating a beautiful seen
  shining beyond what man knows
lightning such darkness
surly you must hear my prayer while I sit here in despair

For all hours when all must fade.
Like flame on flame, and deep on deep.
When all half sleep.
The Iron sword upon the knees.
Blood flows in pools as all lay.
Like flame on flame, and deep on deep.

The branches of the trees bow with the heavy load they are carrying, bending towards the floor. Everything glistens, as if a fairy has sprinkled her dust over the entire world. Colors are brighter against the pure white blanket that spreads as far as the eye can see. The houses become works of art, with their beautiful undisturbed snowy roofs. Chimney’s become sculptures, taking on new forms.

The icy air whistles around their ears, causing skin to tingle and sting. Fingers and toes are numb, but it's a good feeling. Snug inside my many layers of clothes, nothing can spoil the overwhelming feeling of being taken back to childhood. The urge to make a snowball is all consuming. Every step taken leaves a fresh, crisp footprint in the snow, as if no one else has ever been here. Snowflakes fall gently from the sky, tickling the end of their little noses.
Shimmering white flakes fall. Ice cold winds blow strongly. All that once was awake busy with their everyday things have fallen into a deep slumber. How the world once was so lively now has gone still cold and dead, but yet is just as beautiful and makes children smile. Winter and snow is a child's delight things dreamed of every winter.  Sleds and hills, squeals and spills, waving, as the world rushes by. There is snow in the air, snow, and snow ubiquitous. Angels they make in the blanket of white, and tomorrow will remember how Snowflakes felt on their tiny tongues like magic to them now.