White sheath.

I drive through the crystal clear roads,
Every inch beside the road is white
Nature has placed its white blanket on its every making
The roof of the church is blessed in white
Like a divine touch from the heavens above
The little branches of the barren trees
Giving shelter to the showers from above
A heap of the flurries outside my doorstep
I place my feet and they go deep inside
The lake which played with waves yesterday
Are a frozen sheath of water today
So soft and still, yet so scary
The postcard of nature fills the eye
Its white sheath whispers its awe.


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