Sometimes dawn comes creeping with its beauty
Through intricate branches like patterns of lace —
Catching you unawares in open spaces
With its rosy fingers.
For more beauty, please visit: Skywatch.
The first frost of the season
Sprinkled the flowers
With pink and ice.
Silken threads of web
Filled the spaces
Between frozen water drops.
The last rose of the season
Seemed more perfect in
And dropped a single petal
As a farewell to summer.
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It’s still too mild and grey for November, so I’m looking back to the end of October
When the frost presented a cheery iced sun;
And a wild pink rose
Covered in cold eyelashes.
Further on, a rose bud
Shimmered with melted hopes and ice —
And I found myself
At the beating heart of nature itself.
For more flowery scenes, please visit: Our World.