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Photo Courtesy

Photo Courtesy

Patrick DeFronzo, Staff Writer

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From up on high the crystals fall

They rest upon the ground

Then once again the children come

To play. To roll. To build. To pound.

For them the snow is something more

Than just what meets our eyes

Better than a toy from any store;

The living clay of imagination

An age old question- what to build?

As minds begin to race

Igloos, forts, or take the sleds

And rocket down the hills

A snowman is the task at hand

A challenge, that’s for sure

It must be perfect, to look like us,

Then scarves and hats and plenty more!

The golem’s done, his parts not much

But should the wind catch in his twiggy hand

He’ll wave back at his tiny creators

For imagination is what makes the man.


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