On the sixteenth, snowflakes fall,  
A quiet hush, a sparkling call.  
The world turns white, a frosty sight,  
As winter paints the silent night.  
The ground is soft, the air is clear,  
The season’s magic drawing near.  
The trees now wear their coats of snow,  
A frosty wonder, soft and slow.  
The first of many flakes descend,  
As if to say, "The time will mend."  
A fresh new world is born this night,  
As Christmas sparkles pure and bright.  
On this sweet day, with snow in air,  
We find that Christmas love is there.  
Each flake a gift, each breath a prayer,  
A promise kept, so bright and rare.