A winter rose,
small snowflakes
perched on her thorns.
The bloom atop bathed in cold light.

The time of night,
moon and stars.
Their incandescent light falls on the snow.
The moon, white lady of the night,
showers the crimson rose with her glory.

To behold such a sight,
beauty overlapping beauty,
the mystique of the moons’ pure light,
the blood drenched ruby of the rose,
the emerald of her leaves,
the pearls and diamonds of the fresh snow.

Nature at her highest,
all her creations magnifying each other.
Beauty to beauty.
Love to love.