By Clyde Land
In a forest cold and still,
At the base of a lonely hill
In a grove of tall spruce trees
That sway in the winter breeze.
An old log cabin built with care
In the forest is standing there.
Dark storm clouds obscure the sky
As large snowflakes go drifting by.
With fading of the winter light
It’s the beginning of another night.
From the window stark and bare
A flickering light can be seen there.
Firelight flickers on the dirt floor,
Up the walls and across the door.
A grey haired man is sitting there
Rocking in an old wooden chair,
Listening to the winters sound
As falling snow covers the ground.
Out here in this forest grand
Enjoying the peace of forest land.
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