FROSTY FINGERS

Cold frosty mornings with bright blue skies,
mist from the lake like a ghost does rise,
memories of summer days lingers
in the reluctant fall air, with cruel icy fingers
it paints ground and branches pure white,
a sweet contrast to the lengthening night,
the plaintiff call of the birds remaining
to face the weather that is ever changing,
all tell us that summer is gone again,
no more warm sun or sweet gentle rain,
but snow and frosty cold fingers to freeze
all that they touch on the wintery breeze.
It looks so pretty all bright on the sun,
a sign that the winter has now just begun.
But hasten away frosty fingers so cold,
bring back summer sun so hot and bold.

M Ann Margetson November 17, 1999 ©
99POEMS/Frostyfingers

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