What slumbers on
Evergreen boughs —
Snow? Or is it more?
Are they angels slippers
Left as tokens of love?
Are they lacy linen
For mountain troll tea?
Or dryad eiderdowns?
Maybe royal cloaks swirled
Round highland princelings.
Or white fairy dream-dust,
Spun from dancing and mischief.
Perhaps each icy crystal is a
Frozen wish, yet to be granted.
The clouds have floated down
To kiss the children of earth,
Pausing to embrace entwined trees.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: More snow is due tonight. I hear Northern Maine has over eleven feet and counting. Makes our eight feet seem paltry. I hope you are warm and safe and having magical thoughts.