Winter

Clouded with snow

The cold winds blow, And shrill on leafless bough

The robin with its burning breast

Alone sings now.

The rayless sun, Day`s journey done, Sheds its last ebbing light

On fields in leagues of beauty spread

Unearthly white.

Thick draws the dark, And spark by spark, The frost-fires kindle, and soon

Over that sea of frozen foam

Floats the white moon.

Walter de la Mare

Art Carl Whitfield