Jack Frost Has Paid Us A Visit.
Cold, Frosty Moring
On waking, this morning, my room seemed so bright,
In the middle of Winter, bright equals white.!
So, expecting a blanket of snow,
I moved to my window, but NO!. Not snow.
Jack Frost had arrived while I slept.
The mist in the air is thick...... can´t see far,
But beneath my window, my garden is there,
White as can be.... a fine film of frost.
Gives everything a different look.
Mundane objects, wheelbarrows or cans,
are now full of beauty, of snowy white charm.
Yes, Jack Frost has been here with a vengeance.
As children we always imagined Jack Frost,
a spindly little man made of ice.,
The shapes he would leave on our window panes,
Always gave rise to our guessing games,.....
What can we see? A star, or a face ,...A flower,
A tree...?
Those days before heating we have in each room,
We´d snuggle down deep in our blankets,
heavy real wool, weighing a ton, on our tiny frames,
Meant we were warm while playing our games,.
When Jack Frost had been with a vengeance.
Today I look out through my window panes
remembering all our cute childhood games,
and watching the mist slowly rising.
Soon the frost will be gone.,
The day will be dull.
So I´m grateful I rose early morning.
When Jack Frost had been with a vengeance.
