Snow

This poem is in a traditional Welsh form called the rhupunt.

Outside I go
to see the snow
untouched, and so
shiny with light.

The children play
this winter’s day;
school’s closed, hooray!
faces are bright.

Snowmen are made
with neighbors’ aid,
but they’ve arrayed
for snowball fight.

In this cold state,
the snow is great;
we did await
this wintry sight.

Cocoa is hot;
fish that were caught
are in the pot
on this cold night.

Snow does depart,
melt all our art,
the schools do start:
a child’s sad plight.

Run back home fast,
check the forecast
for a new blast
of snow tonight.

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