Footprints in the Snow

This morning as I built the fire in the hearth to make my morning tea, I glanced out the front kitchen window and saw that some had walked by Creepstone Cottage sometime late last night, leaving a trail of footprints in the newly fallen snow. As I sipped my tea and nibbled on a warm buttered scone, I mused about who it might have been and a little poem began to form in my mind. 

It's not very good poetry but I thought I'd share it with you anyway and so here it is:

In the cold winter months
When white blankets the ground
And the Nettlewart vines slumber on
I wonder who's passed
In the quiet dark night
Leaving tracks I discovered at dawn

Who was it that walked
Down the path past my gate
Shuffling along without stopping to rest?
Was it friend? Was it foe?
Was it someone I'd know?
Was it someone I'd want as a guest?

Were it not for the snow
I guess I'd never know
That they came by this way at all
But still I must wonder
Who's footprints are yonder
Where they came from, are going and all

Dear Traveler Who Came
(I do not know your name)
Should your travels return you to me
Give a knock on my door
Stamp your shoes on my floor
And stop in for a cookie and tea