A weak, frail lady in a log cabin lay,
'Mid snow-covered fields, several storms had passed her way,

She shuddered and worried as the cabin cooled,
The fire had gone out and the cook stove had no fuel,

As she fretted and tossed she became aware
Of a tall, statuesque, mannish presence there,

It had entered the room without a sound,
And was laying a fire as the sun went down,

When the daylight had faded and the fire brightly burned
The strange figure vanished -- eerily returned

Whence it had come, again without a sound,
The lady looked out at the snow-covered ground,

In the glare of the porch light's silvery beam
Not a trace of the visit was seen -- just a dream?

As the wood fire crackled all doubt was dissipated,
Someone had truly been there, Heaven's help appreciated.

by D. Edgar Murray