Night walks on stealthy feet, her blue-black shawl
drops softly over day's unwilling face;
the sky is shrouded in a cloudy pall..
of moon and stars, there's not a single trace.
Could these be fallen stars that fleck the brown
of barren earth, in cool exquisite white?
How fragilly they fall like eiderdown,
how gracefully they touch the folds of night.
No longer naked, trees are winter decked
in robes of winter ermine, standing proud;
ten million tiny snowflakes that project
a light to penetrate an evening's shroud.
Here, a Creator's love for beauty shows-
to hide a stringent land - He sends the snows!

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