“Snow” by Abbey Collins


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!



       Abbey Collins


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