Stave 1
The snowman was born
To the sound of boys’ yells,
The clang of sleigh bells,
The crack of a whip
And the clip
Of hooves.
Winter was so wondrously cold,
It bit life into the snowman
And made him creak with joy;
He wished he could move,
Slide on ice like the boys.
But he didn’t like the way
The sun stared,
The way it glared
As it went down;
And when the moon rose
Big and round,
He thought the sun
Had reappeared.
The old watchdog barked:
Gone, gone!
The sun will teach you how to run.
But the snowman didn’t understand,
Even when the dog explained
The difference between the moon and the sun
And warned him of a change to come
In the weather.
The watchdog barked:
Gone, gone!
Image found on en.wikipedia.org
Stave 2
Indeed the weather changed:
In the early hours of the morning
A thick, damp fog ranged;
At dawn, there came a light breeze,
So icy it brought a freeze
And when the sun rose in the sky,
Trees and shrubs were covered in rime,
Their delicate network
A glittering white lacework.
A young couple stopped
To admire the snowman
And the watchdog barked: Gone, gone!
He told the snowman the story of his life:
As a young pup he sat on a velvet chair,
The darling of the master and his wife.
When they had children
And he outgrew them,
There were no more hugs or games:
Gone, gone!
The housekeeper
Kept him in the cellar:
When the dog described
The comfort of the coal-black stove,
Its long neck and brass belly,
A strange feeling
Came over the snowman.
But then the watchdog
Was chained up
Outside
On his own:
Gone, gone!
Image found on hans-christian-andersens.blogspot.com
Stave 3
The snowman’s wish
Was to feel the cosy glow;
He had fallen in love
With the fat-bellied stove
And spent the long night
With her in his frozen thoughts.
In the early morning,
There was freezing, creaking,
Crunching weather
And the cellar window bore
The loveliest ice flowers
That should fill a snowman with joy.
But they blocked his view of the stove;
The windowpanes refused to thaw
And he suffered from his longing.
The watchdog said,
I too have suffered,
But I got over it.
Gone, gone!
The weather changed
As frost turned to thaw
The snowman grew weak
And melted a little more;
He didn’t say a word,
He never complained.
One morning
He just
Toppled
Over
And the watchdog said,
Gone, gone!
Image found on janetboyer.typepad.com
©Kim M. Russell, 2015