The wind howls,
The trees sway,
The cold icy air whistles,
Then all is still.
The snow begins to fall,
Making everything sparkly and white,
Falling silently,
Fluffy white snow fills the land.
The icy air returns,
Forming the frost,
Little swirls and twists,
Filling up all the icy windows.
All this making the world beautiful,
This is winter to me.
By Bree SarandreaBy Bree Sarandre