The White Robe ( a poem of inspiration)
Words may paint a picture...
A curtain, so widely spread across the limitless plain,
The Winter's spectrum, a study in white, in the main.
The cold wind's gift to the chilling sod, to wait below,
A crystalline arrangement, in sculpture, is the snow.
Black crows circle and then call to mock the frigid blast,
A blue sky in a broad backdrop, such beauty, in contrast.
Distant trees raise barren branches, seeking April's gift,
Only in time, the warmth to come, all hopeful spirits to lift.
A dawning sunlight, its promise of better times, to come,
Gives a rosy affirmation of so many things left undone.
A whistling bird, solitary whippoorwill, adds more to hope,
The acceptance of this challenging time, and in its scope.
The somber mood, and in its solemn signs, shades of gray,
Mother Nature wearing her whitest robe, may rule the day.
Soon, in Spring, to adorn her joyful greens, cheerful blues,
As Winter retreats in a quiet repose, as if to accept her cues.