Though it’s been cold for days, and logs in the stove burn,
the furry gang (a little braver now) has taken its turn.
—What curious whiskers! What coats all a-shiver!
What eyes full of wonder, like stars by the river!
—You see, dear Bia, those kittens, I know,
from grandpa’s yard, don’t understand the snow,
why the whole yard, the whole wide view,
is dressed in white, just like Simina too.
—And from the sky fall butterflies, cold and light,
so fluffy and soft, so perfectly white,
upon the furry crew. —It’s their first snow,
and in this world of white, where soft winds blow,
their timid little paws leave prints in a row.
—They slip and they tumble, those balls of fur,
while grandma and grandpa watch, hearts all a-stir.
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