Somewhere above lonely trees,
branches bare of summer leaves,
the frosty wind of winter blusters.
It sings in squalls, casting storm
within a flurry of ice and snow
to wail and lash at your locked gate.
You hide under feather down and cloth
behind the stoked flames of the hearth
fearing, the frozen caress of the tempest
Yes, you fear those ice-covered breaths of wind,
you dread its glacial touch enclosing your heart.