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.