Frost Flowers Poem by Peter S. Quinn

These are my frost flowers,
On the cold window;
Morning comes in showers,
Falling rain pearls adagio.
Broken thought of autumn,
Into the frigid stream;
Reaching to earth's bottom,
With their droplet ream.

Where will you be tomorrow,
When the dark is gone;
Past their innermost sorrow,
The come of rising dawn.
Seeds of the earth's wisdom,
All of the winter's year;
Sulkiness that's now accustom,
When the day's not yet clear.

These are my frost roses,
All which I'm giving to you;
In colored and pale doses,
With some of the morn dew.
Clearing of sky will be coming,
Into the rising once more;
And again then welcoming,
As it has done many times before.