Virgin Snow Poem by Robert Green

There it lay, crisp and white

Fresh and pure from the fall last night

hear the gleeful squeals of children at play

Eyes bright at the sight

of untrodden virgin snow

Small feet kick the dusting white

carefree play in their colours so bright

small foot prints follow

the games they play

in virgin snow of that day

It does, you know touch us

their innocent laughter so infectious

Snowballs fly

high in the sky

they run and slide

accross ice they glide

cheeks so red

tired and off to bed.





RG