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Winter

One day it was dusk,
It was starting to get frosty and the cold earth was freezing,
The next morning it had snowed.
All the white, slippy snow from the clouds had burst out over night.
I ploughed through and played all day.
I sledged and had snowball fights.
The only thing I didn’t do awaits.
That night it snowed more and more.
Inside I watched it pile down.
God painted the sky with his paint palette.
The sun was rising and I went to the door and tried to get outside.
We were snowed in.
It was like being in a cage.
It was speaking, the snow was speaking, whispering, ‘Open the door.’
I rushed to the door and opened it.
I made this magical creature.

by Harry Williams (9)
Cundall


Competition - Poetry Detectives

Copyright remains with the author.