Winter's Frost

A Shakespearean Sonnet

You weep on lonely branches chilled by kings
The frozen mist festooned, a haunted sight
Where withered leaves and tiny songbird wings
Have trembled now in scorn, and taken flight

A Season to which nought is left to change
Windswept prairie, a painted white landscape
So thus, as death has blanketed the range
It chills the heart to know of no escape

And yet as sun will warm the winter blues
So too the frost becomes my secret friend
And slowly life before the eyes a-new
Reveals itself within this winter blend

A truer miracle could not be thus clear
Than that of winter’s cloth I so revere.