Winter wraps us in her cold embrace,
Icy chills whipping across our face.
Leafless bough; a muddy place,
Winter is showing us; her harsh face.

Looing out from atop Pinnacle Hill,
Church Spires wrapped in a misty chill,
Bredon in the distance; cold and still,
Winter is settling down on every hill.

Hearts and arrows trodden in the snow,
Whatever the weather; love can grow.
Winter is here, but for a short while,
Spring will return wearing a warm smile.

By Jim Noond.