In the stillness of a winter’s breath,
where the world is swathed in a blanket of snow,
love finds its voice among the whispers
of frost-kissed branches, trembling leaves
that flutter like thoughts, hesitant yet bold.
Each morning unfurls, a canvas of white,
the air sharp, a crystal clarity
that penetrates deep into the heart’s core,
inviting warmth to dance in the veins,
as two souls, intertwined, embrace the chill.
The laughter of children, bundled and bright,
pierces the silence, their joy warming the air,
while lovers, cloaked in softness, walk hand in hand,
tracing footfalls in delicate patterns,
each step a promise, each glance a declaration.
Through frosted windows, the glow of amber light spills,
casting shadows that play on the walls,
the scent of pine and cinnamon weaves
a thread of comfort, a tapestry rich with memories,
of evenings spent wrapped in stories, laughter shared.
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