Frost etches patterns on windowpanes,
While winter’s chill travels down barren lanes.
Bare branches stretch against steel-grey skies,
As the morning mist slowly rises and dies.
The short days are wrapped in woolly light,
As long clear nights sparkle with crystals bright.
New dreams unfold like freshly turned pages,
While time moves on in gentle stages.
In places where the snow drifts deep,
As last year's memories quietly sleep.
Nature paints all with a silver brush
A world transformed into a peaceful hush.

©️Lizzie Bevis