Everything Was White
Woke up this morning,
outside I beheld
a wonderful sight.
Jack Frost had been around
and everything was white.
It might have been cold,
but I didn’t care.
You could see your breath
freezing in the morning air.
Out came the scraper
to get the frost of the car,
still it was a wonderful sight
seeing Jack Frost’s handy work
and everything white.
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Frosted Glass
Frost flowers on my windowpane.
Jack Frost has visited again.
I always know when he's been here.
Because pretty patterns appear
As if by magic overnight.
A tracery of sparkling white.
A sight that sure to satisfy.
The most discerning artist's eye.
It's beautiful though transient.
Frost paintings can't be permanent.
It will last for an hour or two.
Before it melts as it's sure to.
Frost flowers bloom beneath the moon.
‘til morning comes alas too soon.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Jack Frost
Silver Jack Frost glistens,
Like snow on a mountain top,
His chilly white icicles shimmer,
As they take over the grass stems,
As silver as the moon,
Coming out to play.
Mists hang,
Over the hills and valley,
Until we are left with low cloud,
Over ruling us,
Like the king of Egypt.
Midday is nearing,
Mr Jack Frost is disappearing.
poem by Jess Sinnamon
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Nocturnal artistry for M lady Ann Beard
Nocturnal artistry
The frost adds glitter to the grass.
Which stands erect like silver spears.
Transient beauty which will pass.
The suns rays make them disappear.
Lacy designs on window glass.
More delicate than human art
We’d like to keep them but alas.
WE must accept they will depart.
When morning breaks the sun will rise
Undo the efforts of Jack Frost
which we expect it’s no surprise.
Though we bemoan the beauty lost.
Tonight Jack Frost will paint again
his patterns on each window pane.
Sunday,13 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Frost
Frost covers fallen bridges,
As it does the ones that stand.
The whiteness settles overywhere.
It's gone when I touch your hand.
The morning is when we see the frost,
Yet we know it came the night before.
I've been awake, still it has come;
Quiet and cold to our locked door.
We have watched frost go.
Have you ever seen it start,
As it wanders up the gulch
And slinks into our hearts?
Then there's always morninig,
Or you suppose ther'll always be.
The sun the frost is melting
As we go on, you and me.
We need to talk more when it's forming,
Not just be glad when it's gone,
For, unlike flowers, we seen to wither,
Warmed only by the dawn.
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Frost
Upon waking, I pad softly over to my window,
And look out, at the wintry world, down below.
Many of the things which are within my sight,
Are covered with a thin coating of pure white.
I hear car engines running, and ice being scrapped away,
As neighbours nearby, prepare for another working day.
Through the gap, between the houses, stood nearby,
I see a bright patch of beautiful, peach coloured sky.
With icing sugar, the world appears to have been sprinkled.
In the morning sunlight, millions of minute crystals twinkle.
With dazzling diamonds, pavements seem to have been encrusted;
But, my, once sure, footing upon them, can no longer be trusted.
As I walk along the pavement, my feet slide and slip;
It is much more difficult now, to get a really good grip.
My pace, this morning, is much slower than my norm;
I tread much more warily, on this crisp, cold, frosty morn.
Only the very hardiest of plants, will survive and linger,
As, across the land, wicked Jack Frost, points his finger.
Fine, feathery patterns, now decorate the window panes;
But, as beautiful as they are, sadly, they will not remain.
Where the sunlight shines, the frost crystals disappear first,
But, where the shadows fall, crystals take longer to disperse.
Slowly, but surely, the frost melts, as the day wears steadily on,
And, by midday, the last of the glistening crystals, will be gone.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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World of White
When I woke up this morning
My world was layered in white
So cold it was and very still
Snow had fallen through the night
No birds chirped a good morning
The bugs were hidden away
Instead was this harsh cold
I felt as though it would stay
I could barely see my lawn chair
For white had settled so thick
I wished I had seen it fall
This snow as it began to stick
The trees and bushes were
A fresh and lovely sight
Snow decorated the branches
Making winter look just right
We must enjoy the changes
So lovely and cold and bright
It will not last for long
This wonderful world of white!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Inspired by Issa - Morning Frost
morning frost
he blows at his steaming
hot dumpings
inspired by
morning frost-
yet still a child
sells flowers
-Issa,1820
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Season To Be Jolly, A Season To Be Bright
Snow is falling
on the hills and the glens;
it looks like a white Christmas
will be with us again.
All the old songs
will be playing once more.
There will be carol singers
going from door to door.
Popcorn will be strung
around the tree,
along with mince tarts
and all the party fare.
We’ll look out the windows
at the winter wonderland,
as snowflakes will drift
down from the sky.
Jack Frost will decorate
the windows each night;
candles will burn
until the morning light.
A season to be jolly,
a season to be bright.
As Christmas will soon
be within everyone’s sight.
11 December 2007
poem by David Harris
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A Cold Winter's Day
The weather cold and overcast in the middle of July
And cold jack frost blows with his chilly breath across the Winter sky
And in Kyneton, Trentham and Daylesford they have had a fall of snow
And the temperatures at zero and the weather glass is low
From Spring through Summer to late Fall the weather warm and dry
And for days on end the sun was burning in the clear blue sky
But the rain and snow is needed now and people pray for more
For the paddocks at this time of year never dry as this before
Yet today I saw a magpie despite the Wintery chill
Fly from the ground to a tall gum tree with a twig in his bill
For to build a nest an early sign of the approach of Spring
Of late in the darkness of the night I hear his kin bird sing
In parts of Central Victoria it is snowing, cattle bellowing for hay
And the cold breath of jack frost in the wind it has been a chilly day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Jack Frost & The Hooded Crow
Through long december nights we talk in words of rain or snow
While you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go.
Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame
To warm their bones at christmas time?
Say jack frost and the hooded crow.
Now as the last broad oak leaf falls, we beg: consider this ---
Theres some who have no coin to save for turkey, wine or gifts.
No childrens laughter round the fire, no family left to know.
So lend a warm and a helping hand ---
Say jack frost and the hooded crow.
As holly pricks and ivy clings,
Your fate is none too clear.
The lord may find you wanting, let your good fortune disappear.
All homely comforts blown away and all thats left to show
Is to share your joy at christmas time
With jack frost and the hooded crow.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gentle Thaw
Thick the mist at early morning's dawn,
Cold the chill that enters by the door,
White the frost, that lies, across the lawn,
Each one piercing, striking to the core
Of one's whole being. Then wakes the foggy morn,
Where sunshine will in time, melt frost on haw,
And rouse the sleeping field mouse in the corn,
By dripping water down upon his paw.
He'll scuttle off, expression all forlorn,
To leave the day to begin its gentle thaw.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Certainty for M lady Tsira
The fairy dust Jack Frost has cast
across the rooftops liberally.
Now twinkles in the orange glow
Recalling scenes from long ago.
Scenes from my childhood now long past
I still remember vividly.
The softer glow from the gas lights,
not orange but a greenish hue.
A thousand, thousand points of light
like tiny stars they were so bright.
I used to love the winter nights
and must confess that I still do.
I did not use to mind the cold
Then I was young now I grow old.
So I prefer to stay inside
and watch the frost forming outside.
Appreciate the beauty show
from where I’m dry and warm. I know.
that old age does not come alone
My aging joints reminding me.
To only go out if I must
Be wary of the fairy dust
and when I do to wrap up warm
Then I will come to no great harm.
Jack Frost will sprinkle fairy dust
long after I am dead and gone.
I must enjoy it while I may
it almost turns the night to day.
His is a promise I can trust
the sparkling frost will linger on.
28-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Seaside At Winter
It's amazing to watch the frost's work.
It made the sea side a fairy tale.
The frost's quirk made the sea not for a sail.
The silence is all around.
For a while the time stands still.
The seagulls can't swill.
Like in the realm of Antarctica
Throughout the frost, snow and ice
I see the beauty of a paradise.
But! In the next few moments
The spring will come spelling the frost.
The nature's fulfillment will be the most.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Killing Frost
There is an enchantment in the Killing Frost
It's the most magical night of the year
When the abundant blooms of Summer
Are put to sleep by Frost's frozen tears.
The Killing Frost arrives here silently
Flying in ahead of Winter's incoming wrath
Covering all things that are of the earth
Putting to sleep all flora in her path.
As the late Autumn sun sinks below the horizon
On this Special Night of the year
Plants which were all alive this past morn will be no more
It's time to make way for Winter's Cheer.
Everything Frost kisses will be put to eternal repose
Adorned by Frost's magical breath during the night
All will be dripping in Diamonds in the Morn
With which to dazzle by soft Morning's light.
Winter will be arriving shortly now
And Frost will take her leave
To make way for fluttering snowflakes
Which will come to dance during the long Winter's Eve.
poem by Christine A Kysely (29 December 2010)
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Upon the Lawn - 0088 - Current Version
Upon our powder lawn tonight
bright crystal carpet, cotton white,
soon morn may dawn, spawn golden ray
to spirit sprinkled snow away.
.
Yet with a little luck we might
enjoy the sight and share delight,
until snow thaws in April, May,
with Jack Frost lost to glass display.
(17 December 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
quote by Robert Frost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The brain is a wonderful organ it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
quote by Robert Frost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
quote by Robert Frost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning Sky
The morning sky
was one of those
cold January mornings
with redness
up there
amongst
the off white clouds
and she said
I dreamt of you last night
And you came into my room
and into my warm bed
and even my sister
didn't know
you were there
and you said
I dreamt
of Marilyn Monroe
and entered
into her room
and tried to get
into her bed
but I didn’t want
to disturb her sleep
so just sat
and watched her
like studying some
fine work of art
then I woke up
to a cold morning
and she said
you were better off
in my dream
where we kissed
and cuddled
but then
my sister woke me
and you disappeared
into the cold morning air
and you said
yes I remember
I dreamt
of being there.
poem by Terry Collett
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On Most Surfaces
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
these are blury winters
and I cannot see
I walk into the white light of the snow
when the sun comes
I break it with my shadow
which tales me where I go
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
I am the snow falling down on you
I tear up your face with my frost
And make you run to somewhere warm
When I come I see you get away
I burst out about your emptyness
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
these are blury winters
and I cannot see
song performed by by The Gathering from Nighttime Birds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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