The First Snowfall

The morning wakes, so pure, so white,

A world transformed in soft delight.

The first snow falls, a gentle grace,

A quiet veil on earth's embrace.

It drifts from skies, a whispered song,

Soft flakes that dance and glide along.

They kiss the trees, the rooftops bare,

A magic woven through the air.

The fields are wrapped in winter's glow,

A shimmering quilt of fallen snow.

Each step we take, it softly sighs,

A fleeting crunch beneath the skies.

The world feels still, a breath, a pause,

As nature rests in icy gauze.

The streams are hushed, the winds are slow,

All bow beneath the season's show.

Children rush with cheeks aglow,

To taste the flakes, to shape the snow.

With laughter bright, they build and play,

A frosted dream to crown the day.

The first snow speaks of time's own art,

Of fleeting moments that warm the heart.

A gentle start to winter's reign,

A fleeting joy that will remain.

So stand and watch this world anew,

The first snow falls for me, for you.

A gift of peace, a soft hello,

From winter's hand, the season's show.