THE SILVER THAW

The trees all crystallized they stand,
As if a fairy's magic wand
Transformed them in the silent night,
and left them sprayed in silvery white.

Tall slender saplings once so straight
Bends low beneath the icy weight,
And old king Sol's first morning rays
A dazzling spectacle displays.

White birches stand beside the hill,
they droops beneath the icy chill,
And fallen icicles below
Lies shattered on the crusted snow.

The alders and the willow trees,
Crackle and shimmer in the breeze,
But in the noonday sun's bright glare
Their coats of armour disappear.

Dame Nature with her magic wand
Spreads charm and beauty o'er the land,
But none is more unique and neat
Than trees transformed by frozen sleet.