Snowy Day

There's something so good about snow
That brings out the child in us all.
From the old, the sick, the weary,
To the young, the active, the small.
We stand at our sugar-framed windows,
Just waiting again for the call,
Of, "Look, come quick! Let's go outside,
The snow is beginning to fall."

The satisfying crunch underfoot,
The flurry, the scurry of white,
The daring of walking on frozen lakes,
The silent soft blanket of night.
The fat round snowmen, carefully crafted
By dozens of eager hands,
The quiet amazement of those coming after
From far-away, never-white lands.

And then there's the things that you cannot describe,
The magic that melts as it lands,
A glance at a family, warm-clad, all smiles,
Powdery snowballs in hands.
A young "star-crossed" couple who walk in the park,
See only each other, but know
That whatever the weather, they'll still be together
When now-frozen rivers will flow.

And what of a sledge, a toboggan?
And what of an igloo of ice?
A skirmish, a dervish of winter-time mischief
Makes small pleasures sure to entice.
Yet what is most strange and unusual,
Is the melting of grief-hardened hearts;
Grandpa Joe struggles out of his armchair by window
With no-one in earshot, he laughs!

Sadly the magic can't last-
It was never intended to stay.
Too pure and too delicate for this strange world
Like memories, snow fades away.
But lingering in the dark corners,
Where spirits of winter are near,
Comes a whisper, "Don't miss me, be patient,
I'll be whiter and thicker next year."