Winter's Magic

Winter's chill descends,
Icy winds begin to blow,
Blanketing the world.

Trees stand bare and stark,
Their branches etched against the sky,
A frozen work of art.

The ground is crisp and white,
As snowflakes dance and twirl,
A silent winter's night.

Yet, in this quiet cold,
A magic starts to grow,
A warmth within the soul.

For winter's icy grip,
Is just a fleeting show,
A prelude to the spring.