They stand so high, above water so cold and Icy,

Layered with white, powdery, snow stretched for miles.

Clouds rest over this land of Winter and such a quiet peace,

although the wind blows across the chilly water and lonely mountain tops.

There are slopes of wet snow that melt and flow down into a lake,

That when the sun shines on it sparkles like shiny glass.

icicles hang from ridges that have lived for some time,

Formed over centuries and in times mind.

Beautiful mountains, these white mountains.

Keith Garrett



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