“...dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field...”

“you cross the field in the snow leaving tracks in perfect whiteness ...disturbing my placid universe...marking the landscape within me ...”

“...have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ...”

“...I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...”

“...I'm constantly agitated, restless - I work moments like worry beads until I see your face...”

“...you are enchanted - only a princess can leave glass footprints in the snow...”

“...across the snowy field the barn light gleams - it's the loneliness of November twilight...”