First Frost

A veil of silver drapes the night’s farewell,

In morning’s early hush, the earth lies still,

Each blade and bough caught in a frosty spell,

Where time stands frozen by a winter’s will.

The world adorned in fragile lace and light,

As dawn unveils the sparkle, cold and bright,

Each branch a crystal, brittle in its white,

Breathing the hush, as shadows take their flight.

The silence holds its own in crystal calm,

In fragile filigree, a quiet psalm,

As breath hangs like a wisp, a ghostly charm,

Enchanted by the season’s glistening balm.

In winter’s kiss, the simple beauty lies,

A fleeting magic beneath pale, fragile skies.