by Harshita Das aged 11

In my front lawn
A snowman stands
Short and stout
Its body of
Imperfect balls
And that makes it
More interesting
A short little carrot
Fixed as its nose
A splash of colour
In black and white
Wearing an old and worn
Hand me down scarf
With buttons for eyes
And a thin little twig
Fixed in a derpy smile
Staring at me
And when summer
Rolls along
I look at my front lawn
And in place of it
There is a puddle of water

The Poetry Zone

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