Clouds encumbered
lazily pushing themselves along the open sky,
Blocking the weakened sun
As the wind blows cold icy air along the moor.
Down the valleys and up the steep hills
Harkening the approach of winter’s grace.
Frozen petals parachute delicately from the heavens
A flurry of dancing lace dotting the landscape
In silken beauty as the crystals fall.
Steeping the land in its hoary touch
As the whiteness deepens in its blankets
Clothing the moor
Beckoning Nature to slumber.