Winter Yearnings
Winter's breath upon the birch,
Falling rain darkens white bark.
Wet kisses dampen last leaves,
Greetings from a meadowlark.
Fat squirrel nibbles his fare,
lonely plea of mother dove.
wistful trees wait in the mist,
a slumbering, barren grove.
Image of an illusion,
An impression oh so false!
For life stirs, deep and certain
beneath the blanket of frost.
~ Celtic Whisper
*And a special mention to M who, upon seeing it start to snow, did the "happy dance" with a huge grin on his face.
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