A silver world was all about
When I awoke this morn,
For overnight the silver frost
Of Winter came along.
An ermine robe was draped around
The stately evergreens,
And tatted lace of frost was placed
On frozen pond and stream.
The little brook was silent,
Locked in Winter's clasp,
Hemmed in crystal stitchery
With icey blades of grass.
The meadow lay in silence
While over all the snow
The wildlings tracked their calling cards,
Where e'er they'd come and go.
A wondrous cloak of whiteness
The snow king laid oe'er all,
Fashioned from a leadan sky
When Winter came to call.
-Mildred L. Jarrell
