The winter Seasons calling
It’s snow to paint the ground.
In nightglows silent falling
It lands without a sound.
Alone within a clearing
I watch the meadow and the dell.
I stand inside its beauty
In the distance the midnight bell.
A wishing  star passes on high.
But the wish it cannot answer
Brings teardrops to my eye.
But as if in silent sorrow
A single star appears.
It is as though you see my longing
Saying darling no more tears.