The work began on one cold night,

When all the lights were out,

And crystallized on windowsills,

Till frost was hanging throughout.

And to make things even frostier

Those icicles went PLOP!

To what seemed to them a hundred-foot drop.

Struck the blanket of white snow,

Which was lying down below.

And when the cold wind floated through the eye,

Those icicles began to sew.

Over the meadows of white,

A very pretty sight.

With swirls of aqua and threads of blue,

Who knew! Oh, who knew!

They worked till morning,

Stitching and sewing.

And when their work was done,

The brilliant sun came out and melted them away.

But they said,

"Farewell! See you another day!"

THE END