The First Ice Storm
The town is strung with crystal wires,
by Joseph T. Renaldi
A spectacular view at the ice storm's height,
While carpets of silver drape the highlands,
And drooping branches are coated white.
What shining armor the shrubs wear?
A tantalizing glimpse of fairyland,
For beauty ever shall be such
When painted by a skillful artist's hand.
In time the spectacle vanishes.
Oh, what startling radiance it brought!
It was like a sudden arousal from a deep sleep,
That the enchantment is released, unsought.