Oh Winter, Sir Winter Come You Soon...

Oh Winter, Sir Winter, my eyes wide with awe at your cherub like showcase of which you were born. You bring wisp, and whistle over treetops and trail as you blow the first snow flakes thru' branches in flail Oh Winter, Sir Winter, I can smell your sweet air from chimney tops near, how the hickory doth bear an aroma that tickles the nose-hairs and breath from its serpentine rise, to its warmly slow death Oh Winter, Sir Winter, with your ice ponds of glace wafts of fresh snow, creating drifts cornered space There be a sparkle at night 'tween Archer and space A wink from Sir Winter 'tween bow-string and grace. © 2019-All rights reserved Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR