Round and round it spins, In an endless pursuit of its goal. The question is, what is the black tornado's quest? Is it: To entertain itself, Or is it to amuse others, Or is it to finally, catch her tail. I may never know.
Round and round she goes. Like a true typhoon, she starts with no warning. So, who is the black tornado? Just come to my house and see.
The excitement, the rush you feel, from just looking out a window. Seeing the white sleet of powder invading your yard. The happiness you feel from jumping on a pile a snow, Grabbing a sled and racing down hills, Launching off jumps, That you
you go back
of the fire
place, Drinking a warm cup of hot cocoa, Warmth and joy radiating off you. So, why do we only get this feeling from snowfall?
At night, it's the most beautiful thing in the sky. Their glow boasting and bragging at the poor moon, Nothing's brighter than a star, It shows off its glow, Like a movie star. The most beautiful thing you'll ever see at night, Are stars, shining bright, The most fun you'll have at night, Is finding constellations, Itâ€™s like playing connect the dots in an activity book. Sometimes all you need at night, Is some time under the stars.
Published on Oct 28, 2011