On a cold winters eve
the smoke from the chimneys
twist and turn
as they float slowly and mingle with
the thick dark snow clouds of the north
floating down in their tens of thousands
covering the roofs
of those smoking chimneys
the children run out to play
wrapped in colourful winter woolly's
noses red as the carrot they place
on their new neighbours face
with one motherly call the field lays empty
as the snow covers the ground
all that's left is the smiling face
of the snowman
waiting