Jack Frost

The wind penetrates your skin like a needle, leaving it's icy venom.
Mr. Frost walks this mortal world once more.
Every footstep, every brush of a tree, a hedge, a car and every word whispered carries a beautiful malice.
The peaceful man goes about his daily routine.
(Staggers out of bed, bleary-eyed and disorientated,
Kettle on, radio on, two heaped spoons of 'Monsoon Malabar' ground coffee in the cafetiere,
One spoon of brown sugar in his usual mug, milk at the ready,
Daily paper collected from the letter box and poised on the table,
Bread in the toaster (four slices), butter, lime marmalade and knife on the table,
Kettle boiled, leave to settle for one minute then pour into cafetiere.
Leave to settle for 3 mintues and plunge...)
Then, the humble man throws open the curtains and
Is greeted by a diamond sparkle laced over the world.
"Damn Jack Frost and his twilight visits. Beautiful malice, indeed."
The humble man and his routine has been interupted, once again, with a hatred for this
Icy demon.