The clouds are dark, the sky is dim-
It gives no light and still
The flakes of snow begin to fall.
It is our Father's will.
The snowy hills and frozen lakes
Are like a wonderland
That's covered in a blanket white
Made by the Master's hand.
It's beauty marked by trees that glow
With flakes of snow and mist.
We watch this blessing from above
In solitude and bliss.
Copyright  Joyce Williams
All Rights Reserved 



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