Ode to “Nature”

These trickles cornflakes, white as snow,

Little Albert wants to eat them, but we just

Give him his rattle ball.

The snow collects on the pine trees,

I feel joyous, staring out the window, on my knees.

We have lit a fire in the parlour, with hot chocolate,

All jovial and amiable, it feels as if hate is never to create.

The white snow has a rhythm,

With a slight slush-slush followed by a dum-dum.

The door slams, and Papa and Mama are back,

We go and hug them, as if completing a long lap. 

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