Dusting of snow in the dead of night
To cover with a gentle blanket
All of my fears and frights
Scurry to the corner of the nights
As I huddle under the blanket
I find cool light and peace
A light that gently brushes my face
And fills my soul with cool white grace
A grace that is warm to touch
A grace that says I loved too much
And yet not enough

© Paul Viel 2000