Jacks cold nose(winter)

A winter morning

Now all is touched by Jacks cold nose,
dusted white the neat hedgerows,
where spiders webs hang iced in place,
like doilies spun from finest lace.

Whilst trees arthritic, stark and bare
reach for a warmth no longer there,
from a fading sun in wintery skies,
as the last of Autumn falls and dies.

Author's Note

Stating the obvious but Jack is Jack Frost

Reviews

[Confuser]

I found a smile rising loudly upon my face, such a beautiful poem. And I mean brilliant. Some people surprise you, I am learning, what I mean is I may read and really like the writing and recognize that writer, like the tone in someones voice, there's always that sound there somewhere. People rarely change that much. You know they are wonderful. I can tell you are a force to be recognized. Wow. Thank you. Just beautiful.

[Gee]

You are very kind.Thanks for a wonderful review

[Confuser]

Thank you, just being honest.