A Song of Winter

Come sing me a song of winter,

Of the storms and the windy skies

And the dead leaves dancing, swirling

Where the woodland pathway lies.

O sing of the frosty mornings,

Gleaming world and a red, red sun;

Of walks on the silvered moorlands

O’er webs by the snow winds spun.

Or give me the eerie music

Of the wind in a high bare tree,

Or the thundering diapason

Of the waves and the wintry sea.

O sing of a horse and rider

When the dews are gleaming fair,

And the thrill of a stretching gallop

In the sun-sweet morning air…

O sing me a song in the twilight

When we’re dreaming of days gone by,

A song of the gold and the glory

And the woods and the windy sky.

D.M.P. ©