Yesterday morning, when I was awakened
  By a terrible, rending and quaking,
I found the whole universe, covered with ice
  And the timber with, it's burden breaking.
Yes, old man winter had sallied forth
  And touched with his icy fingers,
Most everything that could be seen
  The chill in the air still lingers.

The trees in our orchard are bowed down
  Some with the weight, had succumbed,
Our telephone wires, looked as large as a rope
  And my flowers I really bemoaned.

But if I were an artist, I'd paint this scene
  The most glorious sight I ever remember,
From the white laden blanket of crystal ice
  To the glittering, shining timber.

I'd paint this picture, so beautiful, so real
  A masterpiece, and not a mere boast,
That my fame would be known the world over
  And heralded from coast to coast.

Alas! I am only a dreamer
  I cannot, natures beauties debase,
But on my life's screen, they are painted
  So plain that time cannot erase.

Every beautiful scene, a God given gift
  Rare treasures, that riches cannot give,
Every scene, in natures own setting
  I will treasure them as long as I live.

Della Hodgson James

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/every-cloud-has-a-silver-lining-5/