The Snow

The snow, in bitter cold,
Fell all the night;
And we awoke to see
The garden white.

And still the silvery flakes
Go whirling by,
White feathers fluttering
From a grey sky.

Beyond the gate, soft feet
In silence go,
Beyond the frosted pane
White shines the snow.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.