Frost Rhyme

The Frosty Rhyme

Fields are all frozen, now jack frosts job is done;
etched in green and white, with frosty fingers spun;
painting all the leaves, with a crisp and frosty rime;
the start of a new season, we call our winter time.

Water takes on a new look, as ice begins to form;
reedmace turns to brown, herald winters storms;
willow leaves lie floating, collect at waters edge;
making green brown rafts, to tangle in the sedge.

Mud is getting deeper, boat ropes are getting hard;
walking is getting difficult, need to be on our guard;
smoke from stoves rising, a signal the cold is here;
staying until the spring returns, and winter disappears.

Now the ground is covered, the snow is very deep;
wind blowing stronger, snow drifts begin to sweep;
round the stove we gather, more snow starts to fall;
springs return is delayed again, returning at a crawl.

Now the icicles are melting, the cold begins to break;
snow now turns to slush, snowdrops begin to wake;
days are growing longer, the chill has been eased;
buds swell on branches, our hopes are being teased.

The ice now grows thinner, to the edge it tightly clings;
sun light warms the ground, and soon it will be spring;
fields no longer frozen, jack frosts work is all undone;
once more all green and bright, as another years begun.