When Frost Can't Stay for Tea!

Whisper of Frost

A quiet hush falls on the waking land,

As frost paints lace with an unseen hand.

Crystal webs adorn each blade, each bough,

A fleeting wonder, here and now.

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The air, a breath, sharp, pure, and still,

Carries whispers over the frozen hill.

A silver world, serene and slight,

Bows humbly beneath the morning light.

**

The first frost dances, ephemeral, shy,

A fleeting artist beneath the sky.

It graces the earth with a gentle kiss,

Transforming the mundane into winter’s bliss.

***

The pond reflects a sky grown pale,

Encased in ice, a fragile veil.

Trees stretch their arms, cloaked in white,

Their shadows trembling in dawn’s soft light.

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But as the sun ascends the blue,

The frost retreats, its time is through.

Its magic lingers in hearts that see,

The fleeting beauty of winter's decree.

**

For though its stay is brief, austere,

The first frost whispers: winter is here.

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Thanks for reading