Crisp…Crisp the night!
‘Pon cheeks as white as snow
Crazy quilt of rimed patterns
Limned upon the window
Soft…soft the lacy flakes!
Each one unique and new
Blanket o’er land and lakes
Winter’s take on dew
Games…games of Fox and Hound!
Pristine drifts of frosting
Turned into frigid battlegrounds with
Brief truces for time defrosting
Steam…cottony steam!
Wool mittens too near the flame
Cold stiff fingers, white as cream
Toes frozen from the game
Quiet…Winter quiet! (shhhh)
Sounds muffled by the fluff
Of snow so deep not e’en a peep
Can struggle up through the stuff
Smoke…writhing smoke!
Reaching for the sky
Chimneys breathing, tendrils weaving
Rising with a sigh
Winter…cold, cold hard winter!
Makes Summer wishes come to light
Til icicles fall, shatter and splinter
…Tis crisp…crisp the night! ! ! …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem