This valley is long and broad and deep
With hills on either side.
Tis Autumn time the flowers sleep-
Beneath the leaves they hide.
The snowflakes fly and float and fall
Across the mountain peaks-
When Winter comes to pay his call
Behind the wind he creeps.
He waits and watches, stays with fear
He knows he’ll have to go.
For Springtime comes at least each year
To drive away the snow.
Alice Lucinda Williams