Snow is a thing that glistens when it's new
Children stare wide eyed in anticipation
Of christening the fresh fluff with boot trails
And snow angels and men.

But as the days get shorter
And the nights grow longer
It begins to dim and dull to a grey suit
Covering the soft green grass
And chilling the warming air.

Until it comes to a point where
One cannot help but wish
That winter would take the hint
And simply turn to spring.