Jack Frost

It would seem as though Jack Frost has been running around the countryside turning puddles to ice.  I can almost sense his mischievousness. 

As a child the thought of Jack Frost used to scare the bejeebees out of me.

If truth be told a chill still runs up my spine when I see ice crystals forming on a window pane.



Below is a poem I wrote about my childhood memory of Jack . . . . . 

During childhood you were scared half to death

Especially on the nights where you saw your own breath

For Jack Frost would be lurking under the bed

And you wished you were somewhere else instead

As long as you stayed put you knew you were okay

But you’d need the loo and you’d feel like you were prey

As you’d muster all your courage and leap off the bed

All the while horrendous thoughts going through your head

Your pulse racing, your heart missed a beat

You made it to the toilet where you’d sit with your feet

As high as you could get them up in the air

For logic told you that he couldn’t reach them there

It’s funny to look back with an adult’s eye

But the fear you felt then, no-one can deny

What were you afraid of as a child?