Jack Frost
by Helen Bayley Davis
Someone painted pictures on my
Windowpane last night —
Willow trees with trailing boughs
And flowers, frosty white,
And lovely crystal butterflies;
But when the morning sun
Touched them with its golden beams,
They vanished one by one.
As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast:
Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
