Wonder's Winter-night Waltz

Now broods above the wooded lea

A soft, star-spangled lullaby

The lyricist of wind and tree

Tugs at the timbre of the sky

The land is carved twixt scarves of sea

And set between its solemn surge

To stun us with a melody

That turns from jubilee to dirge

The countryside is still as death

Beneath the pallor of the snow

The sound of silence steals our breath

As round and round and round we go

© Janet Martin