The wind blew, freezing flesh, along that lonely road,
No kindness or mercy did those winter elements show,
No shelter of any kind was found in that bitter white cold,
How to survive in this was all he really wanted to know.
Although well dressed the wind blew in all his many layers,
No traffic ventured out that night, ‘twas as if he was all alone,
Winter he knew too well, was one of natures cruelest slayers,
Would he be a victim he thought as he was chilled to the bone?
Step by step he trod, then the soft snow began to gently fall,
A few flakes to start with and the wind whipped the flakes about,
Should he stop and shelter in the trees of the forest all so tall,
Or should he go on walking in case there was a car that was out?
His legs were like lead and his heart beat fast, could he go on?
Shelter had to be found, or he would be found dead for sure,
Then through the blowing snow he thought that he saw someone,
His legs found strength and he ran toward light from a door.
A log cabin, a fire burning warm, a hot drink in his hands,
The warmth seeped through his body, he was safe and sound,
There was a cot where he lay and dreamt of far off lands
Places he’d always wanted to see on a ship outward bound.
When he awoke he was home, tucked up safe in bed
He did not know how he arrived there, he could not tell,
He just knew that he was safe and warm and well fed
His family said he walked to through the door quite well.
He never knew what happed on that freezing winter night
How his life was saved, that warm hut that was not there,
But every night before he sleeps he thanks with all his might
The way he was guided home, and this was his constant prayer.
M Ann Margetson © January 10, 2001
2001 1078/Winter
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