One strives for words to qualify,
the scene that plays before her eyes.
For syllables to beautify,
this tempest gusting ‘cross the skies.
The tiny specks of white make blind,
please don’t forget to wear your shades.
The landscapes brightest than most kind,
compares to how the sun parades.
Cruel cold, its nip stings like a burn,
so weird, same sense afflicts by hue.
A fire set to ease concern,
its medicine like witch’s brew.
A pot of tea rests on the flame,
So clap your hands, restore the zing.
Place hands around the cup you claim,
how soon the warmth will make you sing.
A life where cold and snow does reign,
it may seem strange to linger here.
But realize there’s much to gain,
we hibernate, with time for cheer.