Frost (2) Poem by Angela Wybrow

All that glistens isn’t gold –
Frost is white and it’s cold.
It may look pretty; it may look nice,
But, oh, how I hate walking on ice!

Millions of jewels catch my eye –
They shine like the stars in the sky.
The frost paints things sugary white –
It really makes a most pleasant sight.

But knowing that I may slip and slide,
Makes me feel anxious deep inside.
Once the frost has melted away,
I feel much happier to face the day.