Snow. . . covering each and every branch of every tree the ground now slumbers with blankets of snow on top of her Winter now dances through the bitter cold air with a crown of snowflakes in her hair and with a robe of grey to match the dull sky her fair white hands reach out to touch the dazzling snowflakes which fly through the air and land upon her hair snowdrops hidden under their blanket of snow and ice and all the world is sleeping all except Mother Nature, the Snow Queen, and Winter who stay awake to give some light to those who are still awake dogwood blossoms haven't even opened their buds to greet the bitter air and the bleeding hearts have never yet greeted Spring for it is still Winter and all the birds have flown south while Winter's birds have flown north to greet the cold while other birds stay here year round without leaving whether it's hot or cold or just right icey covered creeks are frozen cold from Winter's cold blast and everything is a white paradise Wind is blowing every night to signal it is cold while I shiver and fall back to sleep under my own warm comforter and the Moon's shadows dance into my room through my bedroom window and Stars twinkle in Night's black gown streaked with midnight-blue such picturesque beauty that only poets can pen with their quills and feather pens dipped in black ink stacks of papers describing millions of different themes. . . God, Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Flowers, Night, Midnight, and many other different themes which poets love