As I look out the window,
The sun rises.
Looking at the sight of snow,
Makes me glow.
Light shining through the clouds,
It stands up proud,
Through the winter haze.
But will it last long?
We wouldn't know.
But until next summer,
I can't wait to have my best winter.
In a small story of my living,
All my years been filled up with you.
The beauty that resides,
The snow, the fog, the cold.
Nearing the end,
The end of breeze,
The end of freeze.
Until the next awakening;
I Will always be waiting,
For winter's next appearing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem