Blackened skies spit the whitest snow,
Accumulating just below,
Forming mountainous heaps quite large
Which townsfolk often disparage.

Many will view this time of year
As a reason to feel great fear
of troublesome tribulation,
Yet I have a fascination

With all the atmospheric glow
In this scenery that still grows.
I admire how these sights forge.
There's beauty in Winter galore.

I don't dread how this weather nears,
How Winter's head's about to rear.
True, it tests our constitution.
By Spring, we'll have retribution.