I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tree, <br />She plucked berries bright to crown her head. <br />She was singing little robin's song <br />While wild beech-leaves round and round her spread. <br />I ran home into my little house, <br />Pulled to the shutters, barred up the door; <br />I knelt down to blow the fire to flame, <br />Great dark shadows danced upon the floor. <br />Long-legged shadows came from corners drear, <br />Leaped up white walls, fell, and climbed again. <br />I hear North Wind pushing at the gate, <br />I won't open, not for wind or rain. <br />Oh, run home, wee ones, lest the whirling leaves <br />Take ye far away, fairy folk to see. <br />Crowning her dark hair with berries red <br />I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tree.<br /><br />Dora Sigerson Shorter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-fantasy-16/
