November Morning

Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures.net

November Morning

A tingling, misty marvel
Blew hither in the night,
And now the little peach-trees
Are clasped in frozen light.

Upon the apple branches
An icy film is caught,
With trailing threads of gossamer
In pearly patterns wrought.

The autumn sun, in wonder,
Is gayly peering through
This silver tissued network
Across the frosty blue.

The weather vane is fire tipped,
The honeysuckle shows
A dazzling icy splendor,
And crystal is the rose.

Around the eaves are fringes
Of icicles that seem
To mock the summer rainbows
With many colored gleam.

Along the walk, the pebbles
Are each a precious stone;
The grass is tasseled hoarfrost,
The clover jewel sown.

Such sparkle, sparkle, sparkle
Fills all the frosty air,
Oh, can it be that darkness
Is ever anywhere!

~ Evaleen Stein

I like Stein's descriptions in this poem. They remind me of times when the world outside my window has glittered with ice or frost. I especially like the phrases "trailing threads of gossamer", "fringes/Of icicles", and "tasseled hoarfrost". Which words do you like best in this poem?