"Whispers of Winter"

The world turns still in silent grace,

A snowy veil on nature’s face.

The trees stand bare, yet bold and proud,

Beneath a sky of silver cloud.

The hush of frost, the crunching ground,

In every flake, a peace is found.

Though bitter winds may sting and moan,

There’s warmth in fires, in hearts, in home.

So let the season drift and stay,

In icy charm and twilight gray.

For winter speaks in quiet rhyme—

A frozen breath, a pause in time.