Friday, December 6, 2013

20131206.0630

Snow has sought out Stillwater now.
The white winter-blanket warmth strips away,
And fright at the frozen falling of water
Grips the good people gathered in town.
Salt for the spreading and shovels are ready,
Flat-iron fixed to fight clear the way.
Broad the blades and bright their edges
That purpose to push the powder away.
Gray the ground and gray the sky
As snow will settle and slush develop,
And faces of folk will fall at the sight.

Hearth and home are happily found
In days cold and dark, drive away chill,
And company close keeps people warm.
Family, friends, and feasting combine
To heat the hearts of the hall-fellows
And merry make them met together.
A fierce joy is found in falling snow.
Borne in the blood, bard-work awakens,
The ancestors' arts echoing, as of
Lore-days long-gone.  Late is the time,
But not bereft of blessings all.

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