A Winter Day

‘Tis Christmas again and once more as before

We hang up the holly outside the front door.

The hills and valleys are covered with snow,

Brushed with crystals of ice that glow.

From towering trees, from shrubs, each tiny strand

The snow, like a veil, drawn across earth’s face,

Falls from each branch like frothy lace

And the wind fingers lightly hill and plain,

Chanting a soft cathedral strain;

Through the windowed trees, the sun’s clear, bright gaze

Transforming this earthly vision of ice

To reflection of Paradise.

‘Tis Christmas again and once more as before

We hang up the holly outside the front door.

        – Margaret Phillips Succop