Purple party hats prickle
with shiny, white icicles.
Tiny hyacinth fairies
swoop down greenery slides,
snowflakes spinning sideways.
Jack Frost’s zany zing has
shazammed into spring.
What can we do but have a fling,
sing-songing our belonging?
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: I hear the scoop, scrape, thump of shoveling as I write my little ditty. Be safe, be warm. My part is to make hot soup for the weary, winter warriors.
Here is one happy snow monster: