The Ice, the Cold, and the Winter by Kai (aged 12)
Winter is here,
and it’s nice,
all the same.
Crisp, cold mornings,
breath in the air,
damp in your bones,
colds to share.
Ice lining the rooftops,
hang up above.
In these months,
wear hats and gloves.
The Snow by Mansi Virmani (aged 8)
Snow, snow so deep and crunchy
as bright as a star, so very sparkly.
Snow, snow so fluffy and white
all puffed up together at six inches height.
Snow, snow you travel all over
to the Himalayas and the White Cliffs of Dover.
Snow, snow what fun it is
when children throw snow balls you hit them with a fizz.
Snow, snow please don’t go
you’re meant to be melting really slow.
Icicles by Isabella Cottam (aged 10)
Transparent lions ivory teeth, penetrate icy clusters of bitter sky,
as they hang majestically from slippery, snow blanketed rooftops;
menacingly glaring at passers by.
As sharp as a million glinting knives, they stand, stiffly alert,
ready to sink their sleek frozen claws
into anyone who dares to trouble them.
Brittle wisps of wandering wind challenge them to a fight.
Circling them; but are soon hopelessly defeated
thrown violently onto a bare white ground to die.
A sun soaked sky
breathes unkindly onto the icicles,
mercilessly sending them plummeting to an icy death.
Winter Dreams by Katie (aged 8)
Snow has fallen, snowmen to make again
Ice cold fingers wrapped around a hot mug
100 hooves go crashing on to our roof
A jolly man looks down at me
Beady eyes stare at me kindly
Next morning I am happy
The Snowman by Ellie Godfrey (aged 9)
Standing there in the cold,
he’s not scared he’s brave and bold.
Looking through the window with a carrot for his nose,
he can’t walk in for he has no toes.
Keeping warm with a scarf and hat,
smiling happily so white and fat.
Then morning comes and he waits for a child,
to play snowball fights not rough but mild.
Then he starts to get hot – like soup in a pot.
He melts away and no-one knows
about the snowman with a carrot for his nose.
Winter Child by Sara Ness
The snow day rages
Outside grey walls
Soft white flakes drifting down
The world grows frosting
How I wish I was outside!
Hot cocoa awaits
But the home, so far away
Then, the bell
A flood of screams
And the snow is mine.