A WOODS ECLIPSED BY WINTER



Deep in the woods,
The snowy, frozen woods,
With its beckoning trees,
Shrouded with a thick lace of snow,
There goes a wind,
Bitterly piercing--never stopping,
Not for the hovering darkness, nor for the delicate flakes of snow.

But sleep is here,
And promises near,
As sound's bells resound,
Reverberating thoughts and dreams,
Thoughts of the woods,
And dreams of a woods,
Asleep,
Beneath the covers of winter.