Poem, Frost in the Valley

The sun begins to fade beneath the edge of the sky,
As a wicked chill crosses the plain.
Talons of cold touch my neck as I wonder why,
The sky had dropped the rain.

It was the dawn of spring, or so they say,
But I felt nothing but cold,
Winter grasped the world it its silver tray,
My bones creaked as if old.

 A mist creeped over the valley locked in chill,
With frost over the glass.
I scraped and scraped clean my window sill,
But it just came back.

My arms grew tired, my limbs worn out,
Untill I looked to the sky.
"Where is the god damn spring you lout?
Its too damn cold... why?"

Mother nature only laughed and laughed,
and sent a cool breeze near.
Her quiet voice carried within the draft,
"Just be patient, dear."