The whisper of snow
As it falls through the trees
Climbing it, piling it
To each child their glee
High in the mountains
Betwixt snow and ice
The water still thunders
The pictures so nice
And on down the mountain
Through Gulf Hagas Gorge
‘Till the river moves Pleasant
Past the old Iron Forge
Past depots in Brownville
In Milo a meeting
Two brothers called rivers
And three now are greeting
Way up in the Highlands
With tales told of yore
The great lake called Moosehead
Its grand icy shore
In its forests of bounty
They searched and found gifts
But deep in its depths
Lay old ghostly ships
So much that surrounds us
Such beauty to see
How oft’ we forget this
We just see one tree
We bustle to fill it
With ribbons and bows
Despair if there’s nothing
Beneath its fir boughs
But while we are shopping
For Foxcroft’s fine wares
In Dexter, in Guilford
In here or in there
Remember the blessing
To live in this place
Wrapped in God’s beauty
His picture of grace
From Greenville to Dover
His birth for us all
From KI to Milo
May all heed His call
Written by Andy Torbett
Dec. 17th, 2012
The Maine Conservative Voice 