Frost Upon My Heart

I must now bid adeiu to you, Jack Frost, artist Son of Winter.

We have tarried far too long together.....

Painted much and laughed with frosty voices.

Pixie children of the North Wind, we have been.

Crossed this land over and again.

Spreading crystaline beauty and the hush of frigid cold.

All to be heard was the crunch of our footsteps.

The magic of our moment is fading rapidly,

And I......

I wish for others now to walk with.

Yes, fickle woman child of mankind, I am.

I search for warmer voices and brighter colors,

in sunlit fields where bits of green come peeping.

My paintbrush is far worn from oh too long a stay;

too many strokes upon the flora,

too many transformations into icy dreamworlds.

But I shall wait for you my dearest friend.....

And meet again next year.

Our trist for the darkened months preplanned.

My hand will welcome yours by then,

my cheek will await your rush of chill,

my fingers reaching out to take your skeletal hand.

Ours pans of glittering paint will be ready,

and we shall make our little world a place

of fairytale beauty.

With the sigh of your breath.

With the wave of your hand.

And the dark of night.

For now though,

I think it best we part without goodbyes.

Without sorrow.

Only crystaline smiles

that melt into the light of day.