Ethan Park Mrs Schmitt 6/7 :))
On Comes Winter
Waiting final days for the flower
And soon there won't be any found.
The kids they wait for lights and gifts,
And wait upon for santos mist.
Sound of bells--Dasher comes,
And behind him will be left some crumbs.
But for now the children play in leaves,
And frolick in the autumn breeze.
The sun yearns for its final hour
Waiting final days for the flower.
There won't be any found.
-Ethan D. Park