Sunday, February 09, 2014

Ice Day

I am the morning mist dancing in the crystal air.

 secret ministry of frost
shall hang them up in silent icicles,
quietly shining to the quiet Moon.

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.

Goodnight frosty day.

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