A quiet beauty dressed all in white - A poem by Bob Beane

Summer time is ending.

The air starts to become dryer.

The days begin to shorten.

The blue colors of the sky become brilliant.

One morning we find that there is a quiet joy in the inhalations

Of the now crisp air.

The trees are welcoming you Old Grandfather,

With waving boughs of brilliant colors.

A sudden surprise one morning.

The view is all white snow,

Illuminating the trees and fields.

Oh, Grandfather Winter you have returned.

You bring us such gifts of beauty when you return each year.

Though we grumble and mumble with the cold,

We feel that quiet hushed joy

At the scenes of the snow on the trees.

The softly falling snow flakes

Gently changing our world.

Bringing to us the quiet beauty

That you give as a Homecoming gift each year.