The winter chill begins to clear,
A distant bell I softly hear.
Though autumn leaves have fallen low,
We leave our footsteps in the snow.
No matter how the cold winds blow,
You’re still the brightest light I know.
The winter chill begins to clear,
A distant bell I softly hear.
Though autumn leaves have fallen low,
We leave our footsteps in the snow.
No matter how the cold winds blow,
You’re still the brightest light I know.
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Comments1
Good rhyme and meter make this poem intriguing and the metaphor of footsteps in the snow gives it some depth while the last line gives it an innocent brightness. Nicely done
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