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A Perfect Winter's DayFrozen ponds and lakes, Fields an icy patchwork quilt, An artist canvass it makes, North winds the trees doth tilt. Hedgerows whitened hoar, Paths and fields the same, Faces cold and sore, Still we're glad we came. Skaters glide across the ice, A Dickensian scene replayed, Mulled wine rich in spice, The coldness to evade A wan and weakened sun, Meekly hangs in a sky of blue Though cold the day for some, I am warm being close to you. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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