Winter's Whispers

In the hush of winter's breath, a symphony unfolds,
A delicate sonnet, where silence beholds.
Beneath the pallid sky, where frosty tales are spun,
The world is wrapped in whispers, and a quiet dance begun.

Beneath our feet, a tapestry of crystal lace,
The crunch of snow, a cadence of grace.
Each step a stanza, in a poem untold,
As winter weaves its magic, in the frosty cold.

The trees, once adorned in garments of green,
Now stand in quiet majesty, a somber, wintry scene.
Their branches, bare and fragile, like skeletal arms,
A canvas for the wind, where its melody charms.

The breeze, a gentle maestro, through the naked boughs,
A soft, soothing hum, as winter avows.
A lullaby for the earth, in its snowy embrace,
A melody that time can never efface.

And high above, the winter birds take flight,
Their calls, a distant echo in the serene night.
A chorus of avian minstrels, on a journey unknown,
Their song, a ballad in a language all their own.

The world is painted in hues of silver and white,
A masterpiece of frost, in the pale moonlight.
The stars, like diamonds, twinkle in the velvet sky,
Witness to the poetry of winter, as it glides by.

As the night deepens, and silence prevails,
The delicate sounds of winter, like elusive tales,
Wrap us in their serenity, a balm for the soul,
A symphony of hibernation, where dreams take control.

So, in the heart of winter's silent song,
Listen to the nuances, where beauty belongs.
For in the delicate sounds of this season so cold,
A poetic masterpiece, a story to be told.

-Khushi Kaul