The waxing span of the silver moon
Calls to the breeze of the winters chill
The brittle arms of the lone Birch
Lay still to the frost but are not deterred
And overhead in an Old mans study
Sits a little boy watching all of this quietly
He pulls a quilt to his weary eyes
Watching snowfalls gently like the eiderdown fly
Candles lithe to an enveloped glow
Defeats the shadows, with a golden echo
A thousand creatures, roam up the ceiling
Dragons flicker avidly while unicorns preen near by
The child laughs, as the old man watches
The vital life of youth with imagined glasses
Together they watch the stars and the snow
Forever besieged in this mementos note
Kevin Patrick
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-tale-of-winters-dream/
