Sleighbells ring, are you list'nin? in the lane snow is glist'nin a beautiful sight we're happy tonight walkin' in a winter wonderland! Gone away is the bluebird here to stay is the new bird he sings a love song as we go along walkin' in a winter wonderland! In the meadow we can build a snowman then pretend that he is parson brown he'll say, "are you married?" we'll say, "no, man! but you can do the job when you're in town!" Later on we'll conspire as we dream by the fire to face unafraid the plans that we made walkin' in a winter wonderland! In the meadow we can build a snowman and pretend that he's a circus clown we'll have lots of fun with mr. snowman until the other kiddies knock him down! When it snows, ain't it thrillin' though your nose gets a chillin'? we'll frolic and play the eskimo way walkin' in a winter wonderland! walkin' in a winter wonderland! (walkin' in a winter wonderland!) sleighbells ring are you listenin' (walkin' in a winter wonderland!) sleighbells ring are you listenin' in the lane snow is glistenin' (walkin' in a winter wonderland!) are you listenin', sleighbells ring are you listenin' (walkin' in a winter wonderland!) sleighbells ring are you listenin', sleighbells ring : (walkin' in a winter wonderland!) |
WINTER WONDERLAND |
Sleighride Memories Moonlight bathed the sleeping land With gentle, probing light, And the breath from speeding horses Formed great plumes of lacy white. The runners made sweet music As they moved in rhythmic beat To the tune of crunchy, frost-spawned snow Thrown far by homing feet. And snuggled under the blankets So cozy warm, we'd share A mystic night of beauty And scenes beyond compare. For the sparkling sheen of moonglow Was a sight that seemed to be A fairyland of shapes and hues And endless mystery. And even now on moonlit nights I feel my memory turn To youthful days, to sleighing days; And once again I yearn To capture long-lost pleasure And hear as long ago The hoof beats and the runners As they sang in worlds of snow. --Johanna Ter Wee |
THE SOUND OF WINTER The creak and snap of frozen bough, The sleighbell's frosty peal, The muted murmur of the brook Beneath its icy seal, All speak the season's silvered voice; There is no springtime now. Across the sibilance of snow It's winter country now. And just across the snow-carved hill, The river's icy bars Reflect in silent solitude The message of the stars. --Elizabeth Ann Moore |
Elizabeth J. Holt |