Whispers of Frost

The morning wears a silver cloak,

As frost paints patterns on the windowpane.

Silent whispers float through the air,

Where dreams dissolve in the hush of snow.

Breath hangs heavy in the winter light,

A quiet symphony of frozen mist.

Trees bow under icy lace,

And the earth holds its cold, gentle sigh.

Footsteps crunch in the untrodden snow,

Each echo a story left untold.

Clouds drift low, hiding the sun,

Yet warmth is found in a woolen hug.

The wind hums lullabies to the sleeping fields,

And time slows, wrapped in crystal stillness.

Moments linger in the quiet chill,

Where hearts remember the warmth within.