Her wicked-beauty

A winter queen now owns the stage
the lock and chain, falls from her cage.
She wears a dress of crystal hue,
her eyes cut deep, in diamond blue.

Her temperament is hard to gauge.
she can be shy, but show her rage.
She cares not for your summer woes
or warming words of poets prose

Her icy touch will pinch and peck,
and send a shiver down your neck.
She’ll nip your face with icy beak,
and pull the roses from your cheek.

She flits around the naked trees,
and freezes up their knotted knees
she coats the grass, and fields too
with thread made out of frosty dew.

Some think of her as cold and mean
for me she is an artful queen,
with scenic views, of glowing snow
her heart of cold just melts mine so.