By Marianne Lincoln

‘Tis the dawning of the day,

The bitter cold will melt away

Upon the rising of the sun,

A glorious day is newly sprung.

The dainty frost around the grass

Glistens but will scarcely last.

The lowly calling of the hawk

O’er the prairie breakfast stalks.

The distant mountain silhouettes the sky

As clouds of pink and gold on high

Delight the eyes of passers-by.

O frosty day of winter time,

When breath draws fog,

Crisp air, divine.

Your cold paintbrush draws pictures frail

On house and tree, on hill and dale.

Impressed I am of all I see,

A masterpiece of God for me.