“Snow” by Abbey Collins

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Gently floating,

Is the snow,

Pure white flakes,

Down they go!

 

Frosty trees,

Icy grass,

Just like crystals,

And like glass!

 

Everyone wants,

To go out and play,

Going for a ride,

On their sleigh!

 

Despite the snow,

Is as cold as ice,

I find it,

Really nice!

 

By

       Abbey Collins

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