Walshaw dean reservoir

A Winter’s Dream

Silent and still, a winter’s morn.
Not a breath of wind — the world adorned
With snow that blankets moorland bare,
A frozen landscape, cold and fair.

The sky above, a bright blue hue,
As sun arises, light shines through.
The air is crisp, the ground is white —
A scene of beauty, pure and bright.

In front, a reservoir lies,
the mirror of the moorland, under frozen skies.
Its surface smooth, reflecting all around,
a perfect image, without a single sound.

The hush is broken — a lone bird’s song,
A sign that life still hums along.
Despite the cold, despite the freeze,
Nature endures in times like these.

I’ll savour this moment, this cold, still morn,
For soon the snow will melt — the world reborn.
As I stood there, taking it all in,
I felt a quiet sense of kin.

This frozen land, so calm, so clean —
A tranquil, thoughtful, peaceful scene.