Drawing back the curtains on that cold December morn,

Snow lay thick and white upon the ground.

Snowflakes, big as butterflies slowly fluttered down,

To settle, oh so gentle, all around.

The scene was reminiscent of those on Christmas cards,

But without the little robin hopping by.

For everything was still and quiet, so peaceful and serene,

Save for those snowflakes falling from the sky.

Looking out across the rooftops, red tiles now coated white,

To the distant hills, once clothed in coats of green.

All the colours of the rainbow had disappeared from sight,

To leave a simple monochromic scene.

As I stood there, in a daydream, thinking of days gone by,

And of the friends I knew, so long ago.

It seemed like only yesterday we were sledging down those slopes,

With our little feet and fingers all aglow.

The postman trudging through the snow disturbed my reverie,

As he humped his heavy bag from door to door.

Another batch of Christmas cards from friends from far and near,

And tomorrow he'd be bringing even more?

I gathered up the envelopes and sat down by the fire,

The flickering flames glowed welcomingly bright.

Just another week to Christmas, would the snow be gone by then,

Or perhaps this year our Christmas would be white? By Brian Derbyshire

Ribchester Grove, Bolton

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.