Winter’s Dawn
Crisp, frosty, cloudy mornings, Gloomy atmosphere with it brings. Limp leaves laying on the slippery wet ground, A palate of colours to be found. Pathway through the trees to a small university, Dim light in the sky through leafage we can see. Nestled in the heart of a forest patch, An old heritage structure like an old stone church. Early morning getting drizzled with rain, Coming down streaking the window pane. Pine trees wet with shining drops, Around bright green trees and crops. Rays of dim sunlight falling through the thick branches with grace and ease, Coming down from peepholes around the clouds and sprawling wherever they please. Quaint smell of pine wafting into the frigid air, All the way up a path and towards a lair. Beside the trees, covered in white frost, Was a Bright red postbox. Partially melting ice meeting a mild golden ray, A shiny bright red droplet rolling down to lay peacefully in dried foliage and hay. -Sanaya.