In the winter snows,
where the wind blows,
and the snowflakes fall in a neverending refrain,
what beauty lies in the deep snow that drifts and that collects,
and that sometimes rises above our hips and above our thighs.
Oh, the whiteness,
and the freshness of it all,
and the beauty of it as the sun does rise,
and the beautiful and the glorious robins hop about on top of the hedgerows,
and across the sky, how elegantly they fly,
after we have risen from our slumber,
and have dressed ourselves,
and have gone outside,
and how quickly the cobwebs are swept away from our eyes,
as we walk through the snow,
hand in hand,
smiling in the sunlight,
enjoying the early morning light,
and delighting in the freshly fallen snow,
as the snowflakes continue to fall in all their beautiful variations,
and we joyfully walk through them all,
with the beauty of winter and nature,
so beautifully layed out before our eyes,
and the snow it beguiles us and it mesmerises us,
and the freshness of the breeze,
it clears our minds,
what a wonder it is,
the sunlight and the white,
as we walk hand in hand,
talking and laughing and jumping,
and smiling as the sunlight reflects in our eyes,
and warms our faces,
and we walk across the fields and over the stiles,
heading to buy eggs and bacon from the farm,
and looking forward to the cooked breakfast,
and the warmth when we reach home,
but the beauty of the cold despite the breeze,
is worth the effort,
as we will be sitting by the fireside when we return,
after walking through the beautiful snow,
and as we eat our breakfast,
our bodies will begin to warm up again,
and the sunlight will come so wonderfully through the window and dance so joyfully and beautifully in our eyes.

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