Winter

Blackhall, Sheena

The sna's here. It drappit doon
A duvet ower the park.
Let oot a sneeze amang the trees
On ilkie timmer bark
Jack Frost he's peintit siller
On the fir tree's sark.

The sna's here. The robin wytes
Fur me tae gie him breid.
His breist is nippit wi the cauld,
It's dirlin sair an reid.
His granny sud hae wuvven him
A toorie fur his heid.

The sna's here. The icicles
Like antlers o a stag,
Are hingin lang an pyntit,
Wi ilkie win they wag.
An aa the clouds abeen the crowds,
Are playin tig an tag.