Boot Prints In The Snow Poem by Simon Jackson

Wandering in winter's gusty grip
Nothing is safe from its frigid whip
Taming even people on their journeys.
Animals wonder if theyll see the spring
and the plants would too,
Were it not for the Winter King
Leaving all but their progeny behind.
And on this journey through the trees
Bootprints in the snow
are the only sign of life around,
winding their way, as if following the sound
of the Winter King's whisper
Condensing to the crystalline carpet now layed.

His Majesty's frosty reign will be over soon.
His icy staff will melt to rivers twisting through the lands
and everything will shine with new glory again.