The Snow Nymph

I look outside my cold window,
The snow falling from fluffy clouds.

I try and try with all my might
To have a love with warming hand
holding my life from bitter cold
guiding me from this barren land.

While the blurred snowflakes drift by
I swear I see a dainty arm,
as white as snow, yet glows with heat
calling me out with all its charm.

A face forms from behind the tree,
The great sycamore, comes a nymph.
A lovely face, with rose red lips
that calls to me outside to kiss.

But I stay inside with the fire in the heath
Though I would love that nymph's embrace,
I dare not tread the frozen path.
And so I turn and hide my face.

My head pressed against the window
My choice is made, I'm not that proud