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Poem

Jack Frost, Jack Frost, how we feel your icy touch.
The earth lies under your freezing clutch.
You are a sneaking thief coming to steal the russet sun,
And mercilessly take away all our outdoor fun.

Fluffy snowflakes on feathery wings unfurled,
Fall gently and silently over the sleeping world.
First they come slow and then in torrential showers fast,
As if the snowing will never stop, but forever last.

Busy streets and pavements are now lying bare.
People stay indoors. To come out, they hardly dare.
Rodents have gone into hibernation in their ditch.
It seems life altogether has gone out of pitch.

Birds sit with drooping wings in their woody nests.
Within eyeshot, no trace of any roaming beasts.
From nowhere comes the song of a single bird.
On the slopes, one cannot sight the grazing herd.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, snowflakes fall, 
Surrounding us on all sides like an oppressive wall.
Tawny roof tops are crusted with flakes of milky snow,
That the sun with golden beams alone can thaw.

From the cobalt sapphire sky’s misty veil,
Fall down the snowflakes like summer hail.
Unpigmented piles get heaped on the ground,
And the Earth lies inundated in a sea of milk churned.

From the seamless sea of ice, strewn with scattered gems,
Aureate, flaxen sunbeams make glittering diadems.
Thus Nature creates variegated scenes, delighting the heart, 
Superseding every piece in a museum of man-made art!

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