The Magic Mists

Swirling mists enveloped us
As we waited for the bus.
Smoky fog slipped to where my hair has curled,
And my brother and I are cut off from the world.
We sit as we wait in an anxious fuss
'Til we finally climb aboard the bus.

We laugh and jest over the amount of frosts
That has made my brother and I its hosts.
As we walked and waited in the weaving mists,
The frost had grown on our eyelashes and wrists.

We settle down in our window seats,
And watch the mist do amazing feats.
When the speeding bus and cool air collide
It forms a dance that we watch on our ride.

Just when we think we've seen all the magic the mist can show
It laughs in our faces and gives a jaunty bow.
The bus reaches the river bottom's forest
And now total awe comes over us in earnest.

Tiny fernlike frost grows on everything
On trees, on grass, and window panes.
The scene looked like it was harboring magic unknown,
Like Frost Fairies, the prettiest creatures that have flown.

They have petite little faces
And pretty gowns made of the finest laces
They have silvery wings with dragonfly veins
And shiny blue skin with fine light ivory manes

I was certain that I saw a cheeky little face
Sneaking a peek at me around a tree's base
She fidgeted with her fingers tying knots in her thin white hair
I didn't think there could be a creature so fair.

I looked but couldn't be sure,
But on the fence post's icy fur
Little blue figures hopped alongside the road,
Keeping up with us 'til we reached the field freshly sewed.

The sun burned away our heavenly space,
And the Frost Fairies disappeared without a trace.
All that remains of our quiet paradise,
Are our happy memories of the sparkling ice.