Winter's Artistry When I was young, and the time was mild, My fifth Christmas Eve, I remember. My tree was adorned by a fairy child, On that blessed eve in December. Before me she rooted a tree of pine, Green, refreshing, well scented, And placed upon it a cloak of ice, Crystal blue, silver tinted. She called a friend, Jack Frost by name, To assist in the splendid decorations. He applied his own fine artistry, Creating frosted ornamentations. She flitted and twinkled to and fro, So fast the eye could not see, Only the sparkling blue of the moon, Reflected her motions to me. But I was young and the time was mild, And so awesome was nature's splendor, As a child observing winter's sculpting, Outside my bedroom window.