They ran through the flowers, they say, <br />They played all the hours away, <br />They sang all the time of the day, <br />They picked at the Summer’s display. <br /> <br />They came from the sky, it’s said, <br />Upon wispy paths of golden thread, <br />They smiled a away, but instead, <br />In the coldest days of winter, they seem dead. <br /> <br />End.<br /><br />Daegal<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-coldest-days-of-winter/
