Winter drifts in on a silvery breeze,
Frost curling softly on slumbering trees.
The moon hangs low in a sky made of glass,
Watching the snow as the quiet hours pass.
Footprints appear where the night has been,
Touched by a hush that settles within.
The world grows still in a blanket of white,
Softening shadows and taming the night.
Chimneys breathe warmth into air crisp and clear,
While stories and laughter draw loved ones near.
And though the cold winds wander and roam,
Winter reminds us of hearth, heart, and home.
