Snowflakes come in fleets
Like ships over the sea.
The moon shines down on the crusty snow:
The stars make the sky sparkle like gold-fish
In a glassy bowl.
Bluebirds are gone now,
But they left their song behind them.
The moon seems to say:
It is time for summer when the birds come back
To pick up their lonesome songs.
Snowflake Song
Hilda Conkling
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Poem topics: fish, sea, sky, snow, song, summer, time, gold, moon, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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