As the sun disappears in the west,
Jack Frost comes sneaking in to do his best.
When the moon casts its ghostly glow,
everything glistens white like snow.
Icicles hang down like chandeliars,
animals shiver, and shake with the cold, and their fears.
The night is bitterly cold, and long,
hark the silence is broken, by a blackbirds song.
Then the sun rises back in the east,
behold Jack Frosts work just melts away,
In the warmth of the coming day.
Tango.
That is the hope Lord Sund brings in A rejuvinating warmth and an escape from freezing cold. Beautiful poem Sir.
Love seeing the icicles dangling and the refections cast as the sun's ray touches it, and the crunch underfoot but then again - poor creatures out in it......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fack me? :) I like to be played around with..