He descended from the night sky on threads of ice crystals
anchored by the waning moons tip, sliding silently to earth.
Withdrawing his brush as a warrior would his sword
he struck hard and fast painting frost upon the garden.
No one could deny his intent, and that was to destroy life
on an autumns night when all were tucked safely asleep.
They had no strength to fight, drained of warmth and sun,
death was inevitable this night as Jack the Nipper laid waste.