Crisp cool air is filtering in
Pure white blankets lay on the ground
A hush of silence is settling in
Quiet flurries are floating around
No more thunder no more rain
This has disappeared from sight
The passing storms with all their pain
Lay hidden beneath a sea of white
Mother Nature has a way
of going against what seems to trend
She alone has the final say
The universe wears her seasonal blend
With everything there is to know
There's always so much mystery
From a thunderstorm to falling snow
Can come great awe or misery.
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