In December, the snow is here,
Falling like flinging pinball,
From mountain top to earthly atmosphere,
Down to the gracing lands they fall.
Covering the ground with white mist,
The renascence of a fleeting ice age,
December gains the momentum of cold frost,
Not seen since the last time we envisage.
A warbling band of merry snow,
Dancing across the road knee deep,
With dangerous sleet under invisible glow,
Turn to ice in the darkness we sleep.
Colors vanished from astrological calendar,
And powder flakes fastened into the ground,
Reflect the past and the future in frosty water,
With hearts beating to every foreign sound.
Surprise comfort comes howling in December,
People sit to ponder in cloudy spanned,
Watching the tracks of snow disappear,
To freeze over at another base within the land.