White SpiderWebs In Trees

On this cold, frosty morning

Our hands feel the chill of winter,

But all is forgotten,

As our eyes behold a wonderful sight;

We observe the winter's trees,

Standing tall with all their might,

And upon their branches,

White spiderwebs;

Every detail spun with care,

Into little white flowers,

With silky-white cotton,

Woven with tiny frosty fingers,

Shimmering patterns dancing,

On tiny fragile branches,

Bringing a smile to cold, blue lips;

As we stuff frostbitten hands into our pockets,

hiding our rosy cheeks beneath woolly hats,

Drinking hot chocolate,

And,

Laughing with sheer delight,

On this blustery, cold, winter's day.