Marchell Dyon

I am born of cold I fall
With a mystical air again I burn silver
I taste your hand to touch me is
To know a glimmer of frost bite
When you squeeze me are you wishing upon a star?

I float down in mid spiral I am caught between
your mitten fingers I melt you savor this power
Soon I will have the upper hand
My short life renews until there is so much of me
From my obesity you can no longer hold me

You runaway scared on the wind I follow you
To your little brick house where you hide
Where you bundle in sweaters before an electric fire
I stick to your windows you watch as I look in
There’s no escaping me

Flake by flake I cover the earth
By every crystal paratrooper I gain more ground
Mother Nature grants me this right
To sparkle at your window blue and transparent in the sun
I am alive and bright I decorate your windows like Christmas lights

This is my season, this wondrous winter
This is my crown this aria of frozen wind
I give no quarter
I give no warmth
The world bows its head

Thy kingdom is mine.