She is coming, but not right now
She waits for the best time to pounce
Like a lone wolf hunting its helpless prey
She will come in a furious storm of gray

Sweet crimson buds and roses once bloomed
And wild pink cherry blossoms rose up like the sun
The grass sang its melody with life
And flourished in the golden sunlight without strife

Blues, violets, and greens,
Orange and purple, yellow and red
Spread out like gauzy curtains of eternity
When the days were sweet, long, and balmy

But the summer days grew colder
As the sun bid farewell to the laughing daffodils and the bubbling streams
And the pale moon, gentle but cold
Took the world in its desperate hold

The woods grew crisper,
Crinkly to the touch
And the leaves whispered frantically in fear
As shorter days drew near

Green grass, once moist with soft dew
Has hardened into dried brown,
And nettled with frost
Begins to grow minute and weary with exhaust

The birds are wiser than the trees
And they rise to the fading skies
Their arching patterns of  rapid flight
Warn of imminent plight

She watches
Laughing at the sight of it all
The end of summer and the end of new birth
Makes her chuckle with mirth

She comes
When it’s least expected
Bringing changes and new tales to be told
But at the cost of bitter, biting cold

She waves her icy fist
The mountains tremble and shed green tears
Auburn orange and bold golden yellow succumb
The white is glorious, cold, and numb

Steadily, surely
White jewels, like diamonds of death
Cool to the touch but dangerous to the core
Fall like spades of silver, over and over

The animals cry their dissent against the  world of white
They plead and beg, and fight
But in the end, they burrow away in holes
And wrap away their souls

The trees stand sentient
Solemn and sorrowful
Each leaf falls slowly and painfully to the endless white
Like a teardrop of fright

She waves her icy wand
Snow falls in torrents
The wind buffets the once warm valleys
And freezes the bubbling stream as it pleads

Winter’s war is nowhere near finished
She dances with her whole being now
And the icy realm expands across the land
Until the world is a blanket of white sand

Snow reaches even the village
White tarps of ice veil the ginger roofs
A little girl rises from her bed in Winter’s wake
And catches a snowflake

The next day,
The children laugh and play
To them,  the snow is innocent
For the children don’t know Summer’s lament

But the chimneys burn fiercely
And the aroma of pie and fresh cut pine
Can be smelled for miles
Even the cold of Winter manages to bring smiles

Snow falls and falls,
But slower
And as Winter’s arms gradually ache
Spring begins to awake

This time, there are no tears
Spring brings joy and warmth
With Winter’s icy realm it is hard to cope
But the memory of Spring’s return always brings hope