First Frost
A quiet breath upon the land,
A hush the stars can understand.
The dawn arrives on silver feet,
While fields in crystal slumber sleep.
The night's cool hand, so soft, so light,
Has draped the world in frosted white.
Each leaf is etched in lace so fine,
A fleeting art in morning's shine.
The air is crisp, the world made new,
As light reveals a sparkling hue.
Grass and twig, all frozen still,
Held close beneath the winter's chill.
It last but moments--then it fades,
The sun reclaims the frosty glaze.
Yet in this touch, so pure, so brief,
We glimpse the world's enchanted grief.
For winter's beauty, cold and clear,
Arrives in whispers we can hear,
In breaths that cloud the morning sly,
And icy sparkles quick to die.
About the Creator
Carrie Guffy
High school performing arts director. I am an amateur writer.
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Comments (2)
For Winter's beauty cold and clear. Loved your poem. Well done!
This was so beautiful. Loved your poem!