Frosted Morn Awake, dear world, to crystal light, a frosty breath adorns the morn, soft twinkling jewels, a pure delight, where winter’s kiss has gently born.

The branches wear their glistening crowns, while whispers float on the ling’ring chill; a shimmering beauty of white gowns, a frozen beauty, peaceful and still.

In the soft silence, life holds tight, a promise wrapped in nature’s care, in frosted realms, the heart takes flight, a winter’s dawn beyond compare.

• Thomas S P S Munch