If only the canker in our lives could be covered up
Completely, as the winter snow now blanketing much of Europe.
Magic, how the eye-sore view of coal and slurry
Can disappear by the snow’s flurry.
Gone the black dead twisted trees, the rubbish silted up river beds;
Now snow white fairy houses, the allotments dirty potting sheds.
Mud and brown and ugly towns transformed into white wonderlands.
See the children playing on their sleds, rolling in pure powder flakes
The landscape is now transformed into a gigantic happy playground.
If only man’s core could be as pure, as innocent as the white swirling snow which I wish could cover all.