morning light by Martha-Ann

Last evening when I went to bed the moon was clear and bright
The stars peeped down atwinkling within the velvet night.
At sunrise when I woke and rose, the curtains opening wide,
The window panes were pearl, opaque, I couldn't see outside.

A tracery of leafy shapes the window panes adorn
Jack frost had been and drawn then there then vanished with the dawn.
Each window pane's a beauteous sight
Of ferns and leaves and diffused light.
His ice creations, fragile patterns, delicate, a filament of grace,
Filligrees of snowy white, intricate as lace.

I've been to many galleries the paintings there to see
By famous artists, world renowned for their expertise
But Jack Frost surely must compare with every one of these..