Snow

I have written a poem about the snow. A couple of weeks ago we had lots of snow and had snowball fights with Debs outside The Almanack and then played in the snow on the green the next morning.

SNOW


Snow, snow, wonderful snow.
'Though it is soft and powdery
you can make snowballs to throw.

I love to shock my Mummy
with a snowball to her tummy.
Daddy is surprised
by a snowball at his thighs.

I love it when it snows
'though it is chilly on my toes
and snowflakes do land on my nose.


I love making angels in the snow.
It helps when I wear waterproof trousers below.

My bottom and legs stay dry,

so I can make angels and not cry.

I do not like snowballs thrown at my face,
nor are my ears an appropriate place.
Snowflakes are pretty, white, wet and cold,
a man took photographs of them in days of old.







Each one is unique
and when it rains the do leak.

The snow goes brown and then thaws
when it warms up out of doors.




When we played in the snow we made this snowman even bigger than me. We took it in turns to get our of breath by shovelling snow into piles. The sun melted my snowman and his head fell off.




Daddy, Debs and Mummy buried me in the snow. I was still snug because I had waterproofs on. Mummy got a wet bottom when she made a snow angel. I made an avalanche on Debs' car when I pushed the snow off the roof and bonnet. My chickens don't like the snow but we put vaseline on their combs to stop them cracking like my lips did.