When the valley fills with snow,
fear not the cold winds that blow.
Never let your eyes wander
from the terror they must show.

In peace’ blessed springtime song,
promises for which you long,
resist mirth fogging your sight.
Facing temptation, be strong.

Need I speak of summer days,
fields awash in heated haze?
Wipe away the blinding sweat,
or be slave under those rays.

While harvest yet secures bread,
stores aplenty in the shed,
cloud not your vision with sleep,
and prepare for what’s ahead.


Listen to my Beautiful voice:


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