The Snowman

In the garden, white with snow,
We roll a ball, and watch it grow.
A smaller one on top we place,
Our snowman starts to take his place.

A carrot for a pointy nose,
Two small black stones in tidy rows,
A scarf of red around his throat,
And there he stands, so proud, take note.

He watches us with a happy grin,
While the wind begins to spin.
Days go by, the sun comes back,
He melts away, no trace, no track.

But do not be sad, for well we know,
Next winter, we’ll build him from the snow.
The snowman comes back, year by year,
To smile again, no need to fear.