Flowers of snow,
they blow about the sky like birds in flight,
a sight that sends the senses in a spin,
for deep within our hearts we love this dance,
this ballet-dance of nature,
as all is frozen, stilled;
and movement only comes
when winter wishes are fulfilled.

We wish, and wish, and wish again,
for lightness in the dark,
for moments by the burning grate,
warm sparks of orange bright,
the contrasts of the darkest nights,
with stars of ice, that tinkle tinkle bells
on forest trees, of rainbow colours, fired.

For presents below a fir, the reds and blues
with ribbons silver, gold,
as Christmas comes and goes,,
the hellebore, its virgin bloom is plucked
from frozen earth, and brought right in
to Lord the full decked table,
celebrate Messiah's birth.