Gently guided by the breeze
Towards the ground.
I hold my hand out, catch
One on my tongue, rejoice
In the coming of Winter.
Her bugles sound loud,
A blend of the chorusing winds
As they rouse the forest in their sport;
The trees bow, nobles in her court,
Ice forms over ponds. Winter's
Red carpet now awaits.
Suddenly, grey clouds cover the sky,
Clamouring all at once in thunderous chaos,
They ignite the sky with flash after flash,
Paparazzi following fast on Winter's glimmering gown---
Winter pauses for a moment, allowing one picture,
Her gales lay still, flowing down her shoulders as hair,
Her gown of ice crystals, each snowflake unique,
Trails out behind her, ne'er catching on
The ice slippers on her feet;
Then she proceeds immediately, tossing her long locks