Jack Frost

Jack Frost put on his shimmering jacket and jaunty hat and he walked all night to the top of the world. Past the dancing curtains of Aurora’s, past the glistening snow fields, past the narwhals with their unicorn horns sparkling in the cold dark sea.

 He stood hands on hips on the tallest hill and drew in his breath. And then he blew and he blew and he blew his icy magic across the sea, across the islands with their cozy lighted windows. 

Across the mountains where the deer stood huddled, across the rivers where the silver salmon swim. Across the woods and meadows where the amber fox was padding and across the roofs and windows of all the sleeping towns. 

Then he stopped, his breath all spent and he admired the glistening white that covered all the lands and smiled. His job was done.