A Tale Of Winter Poem by GORDON BUTCHERS

From winter skies snowflakes fall
Turning everything so bright,
The fields the hills and all around
All carpeted in white.

Everything shrouded in winter whiteness
For as far as the eye can see.
Apart from robin redbreast
In the branches of an old yew tree.

By the hedgerow are the footprints left by animals
Leaving signs of where they have been,
Icicles hang like crystals from an iron gate
Typifies the winter scene.

I walk across a frozen field
That is draped in a pure white sheet,
And ol jack frost creeps into my boots
Then nibbles away at my feet.