BY CAROLE NICHOLS
Falling silently, softly,
Etching the ground in a blanket of white;
The silence sings with it's beauty,
Filling the soul on a cold winter's night.
It's purity invades the darkest mind,
With it's moist fingers it shall find,
The heart of a child within shall play
In the gift God and nature sends this day.
We frolic without till the fingers chill,
Then rush to the fire, the heat to steal;
Glance out the window with a wistful sigh,
Watch snowflakes fall from a winter sky.
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