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Elation for percipitaion of the frozen kind |
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Begins to grow when we are both below |
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A quilt wathing the snow |
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The crystals fly the wood is dry |
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And you are wearing only fireglow |
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Like a Vermeer tableau |
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Inside watching the snow |
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To see the meadow sleep beneath |
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Its comforter of irridescent white |
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It sure is quite a sight |
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The maples and the evergreens |
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Surprised their outer branches seem snow-lost |
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As in a poem by Frost |
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One of my favorite pastimes |
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And how well you know |
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is through the picture window |
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When we watching the snow |
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The gare is locked the dog's been walked |
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Thelonius is on the stereo |
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A crepuscule we know |
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Inside watching the snow |
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As evening falls the teapot calls |
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here's hoping several inches more will blow |
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Since we7re contented so |
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Inside watching the snow |