Snowflakes dancing along in the air,
all tantalisingly twirled with care.
Flurries of white floss whirling in flight,
landing, dusting all objects in sight.
Silently descending, down they glide,
chasing each other, so far, so wide.
A lace curtain hung across the sky.
A soft quilt, the land, to occupy.
Ice crystals in six fold symmetry.
Feathery spots of embroidery.
Every design unique to the eye,
patterns unseen, as they float on by.
Oh, what delight to watch their descent,.
Tumbling about to such an extent,
that blankets are laid over the ground,
where heavy footsteps can make no sound.
Catch one, but it will dissolve away,
your hand is too warm for it to stay.
But Oh how we love this wintry treat,
of crisp frozen snow beneath our feet.
© Ernestine Northover
Artistry at it most fragile. Nice poem. Cool!