SNOW

The snow that falls so gently to the ground
Can do no harm, its form so soft, so fair
It comes about without a single sound
No matter when, how far away or near.
And yet as time goes by and hours pass
And winds begin to howl and whip and throw
The gentle snow begins to form a mass
Its gentleness it does no longer know.
How can this gentle beauty cause distress
That every thing must bow to let it by
For there is no control, to let it rest
Its wrath comes down upon them from the sky.
And so however fierce or gentle it may be
It is a white phenomenon to see.