"There is a certain magic
To the first frost of the year
When autumn’s golden halo
Has been kissed by Winter’s cheer.
As the sun climbs over the horizon
Your breath’s vapors become unfurled
Like plumes of steam rising from within
Its warmth in the chill revealed.
Every twig, every branch, every blade of grass
Every surface that one can see
Has been adorned as though from high above
As though diamonds are now given for free.
Every surface has delightfully been adorned
With a million gems thrown from the sky
Having been touched with Jack Frost’s icy caress
Winter’s love of autumn cannot be denied."
To the first frost of the year
When autumn’s golden halo
Has been kissed by Winter’s cheer.
As the sun climbs over the horizon
Your breath’s vapors become unfurled
Like plumes of steam rising from within
Its warmth in the chill revealed.
Every twig, every branch, every blade of grass
Every surface that one can see
Has been adorned as though from high above
As though diamonds are now given for free.
Every surface has delightfully been adorned
With a million gems thrown from the sky
Having been touched with Jack Frost’s icy caress
Winter’s love of autumn cannot be denied."
Christine A Kysely
No comments:
Post a Comment