Nature peeled back Summer’s quilt
Of flower-beds and all things green.
Soon the plants began to wilt;
Windows took a frosty sheen.
In place of grass, the lawn turned pale
Beneath a sheet of fresh, white snow.
The pond became a crystal frail;
Frigid water lurked below.
Picture now that Mother fair,
Deciding that our land should sleep.
She tossed her Snow into the air,
Shrouding hills in blankets deep.
Mariella Hunt 