SONNET #24 HOARE FROST

The mist rose off the frozen lake so still
Before the sun rose late to greet the day,
No breath of wind disturbed the lovely scene
That met us, nought to send the frost away.
Each bare branch stood tangled to greet the morn
With frosted bough and twig and jewelled thread.
A diamond pine cone and a sharp sparkling thorn,
Hedgerows glittering in the feeble sun.
Brown dead leaves now with their veins all silvered
By painters delicate touch so finely done,
Everything touched by a magical wand
To make the viewer gasp, to gaze in awe
At the pictures and varied patterns drawn
Around us, so give thanks that we are born.

Ann Margetson Dec 10 1997 ©
poems97/hawfrost