Wintery TouchDown

As the winter makes a touchdown,
raving along the paths, the brushes, the rivulets,
it arouses rigid trees to a dancing sway,
which quickens musing air to breezy fare.

With each passing day, more and more the winter breeds its cold,
very likely to bring along buckets of wind
which will roam earth's perimeter in windy colors,
transfixing faces with awe of chill.

The sun in hibernation drowsed, in realms above and above,
but too distant from the firmament's reach,
in this season the poles are overrun by clouds
that twine with the wind in nature's call so solemn.

Oh winter, have you come to mock? !
Have you come that summer may quit and go?
You know with your intrusion this will surely be,
when sheets of cold cascade down to the feet of the earth,

the sunlight to shimmering smithereens breaks,
emboldening darkness to sift through the sunny cracks
to smear the day with cold color black,
sending us to bed while the day is still young.