Frost's First Kiss

Under the moon's soft gleam, whispers the night,
A brush so tender, a touch so light.
The world in slumber, under star's bright kiss,
Welcomes the dawn of frost's gentle bliss.

Leaves painted silver, trees robed in white,
Fields glistening under the nascent light.
Each blade of grass, each sleepy flower's face,
Adorned with crystals, in tranquil grace.

A breath of air, so crisp, so pure,
Speaks of moments, fleeting, yet sure.
The silence of dawn, a canvas vast,
Holds the promise of futures, of shadows cast.

In this quiet hour, before the world awakes,
Before the sun's warm embrace, the frost forsakes.
There lies a peace, a solemn, sweet refrain,
A reminder of cycles, of loss, and of gain.

For in nature's hands, a tender caress,
Lies the beauty of change, the power to bless.
So let us cherish, in heart, in mind,
The magic of moments, frost leaves behind.