To see the whiteness of the snow
that lay about a foot or so
to see the tree’s encased with ice
a winters scene that’s very nice
If in a house with fire bright you sit with friends this chilly night
While out-of-doors the cold winds blow
moving round bits of snow
and yet before the night shall end again,again the snow descends,
till morning brings you to the door to see the whiteness evermore
We close the door chase out the cold
for even now were not so bold.
Yet after breakfast ,toast and tea we see the cold more willingly
For now we must move it away admire it some other day.
By Meredith J Weir 1972 All rights reserved.