You can sense dread in the trees as winter approaches.
With it’s freezing temperatures, and robbing of the sunlight.
With it’s chilling winds, and blinding storms.
And yet when I look to winter all I see is the beautiful new fallen snow, and the crystals hanging off the sleeping trees.
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I like 'the sleeping trees' and the 'passion that is winter'. Whose passion? Winter's or ours or both.
Very nicely worded poem about winter. I find winter exciting because of the cold refreshing air and the beauty of snow. Nice work. Kate