Winter Glass

The winter spectre is here again,
And the cruel shivers with it,
When my breath takes eerie forms before me,
And the ice rinks spread over the land,
When the skies become a silvery void,
Crying deluges of diamonds and snowflakes,

I spy out of this frosted over window,
My winter looking-glass,
The external realms appearing as blue and white kaleidoscope,
The sharp rain patters on the glass,
Leaving brisk hieroglyphics upon my view,
Stinging messages from Jack Frost,

I simply cannot read them,
Each vowel is simply a shudder to me,
A siberian dread,
And a hope for warmer weather.

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