And the Snow Fell…

On a hill,

In the countryside,

Stood an old log cabin.

Inside,

A bearded old man

Sat in his rickety rocker

Where he wove

Fanciful stories

That always had

Happy endings.

Clustered

At his feet,

Were

A great gathering

Of tiny children

Who listened

Attentively.

As the friendly fire

Sparkled and crackled,

And the old man’s

Faithful hound

Rested contentedly

By the hearth,

The snow fell

Quietly,

Outside the frame

Of the wooden Windowsill