He sat in my garden, for two weeks or more;

I never saw anything like it before.

We had only rolled snowballs as large as a hand,

and as we kept rolling it was more than we planned.

We soon could not move it, a giant compacted ball;

so we started another, and kept it quite small.

We placed it on top of the big rounded one,

and decided a face would be so much fun.

Twigs for arms, and six lumps of coals,

two for his eyes; the rest, buttonholes.

A black hat on the head, and small stones for a smile,

a carrot for a nose, and a scarf for the style.

We called him Peter the Grand, and he stood tall and proud,

and in our garden, stood out from the crowd.

But as the sun shone, it melted the snow,

and slowly but surely we watched Peter go.

And we learned a good lesson as part of life’s plan,

time waits for no man, especially a snow man.