Softly, softly falls the snow….
Upon the barn, along the old hedgerow;
And peace that only farm-folks know
Settles upon the land.
The hours stand
Like acres waiting to be plowed.
Now there is time to read aloud,
And time to mend. and time
To visit with a friend.
Evening are right for popping corn.
When chores are finished at the barn
And supper dishes put away.
Dad and the big gray tiger cat
Doze quietly beside the fire,
While roly-poly kittens frisk and play.
And from the hearth the scent of pine
Rises like incense in the room.
Tho’ hills and fields stand stark and bare,
For country folks there is no winter gloom….
In these quiet hours, love’s richest roses bloom!
THE AVE MARIA