Whispers

Christmas clouds say nothing
Not a word all week;
soft and still and silent
blanketing the waiting earth.
Above, the pale and wintry sky,
more green than blue,
knows more than it will tell.
The wood is silent  
straining ear to ear.
Do not move,there's a need
to know so hush you birds.
Do you hear it coming?
Three days left to wonder
The final hour, a midnight
loved by many a child
wondering now, as always
will it snow for Christmas  
and reindeer tread the tiles ?