A tingle a wingle the breeze of cold tickled the nose and face
Out and about Jack Frost clicked his heels and wondered frosty free
Capriciously looking at fingers toes he wants them all cold nipped severed he will quick
Flipping aside Cape of Ice he slithers around all through the night
Singing Song of Gay he says he is a little sprite who delivers a special treat performing a job of no knowledge no one knows
Embracing tree after tree he climbs them all nimble swift he decorates them ice powder of silver all gleamers through the night
Window panes of unique creation reflect patterns of etching designs that Picasso envy he makes through night of strokes of genius while sleep chase us through
Leaping jumping prancing across grass of green he merrily clicks it to white of pristine intricate design laughing with wit of appreciation he charges on charger to home home home of glad of fun had in the night
The End
By Felicia McCaw
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