Soft Fallen Snow

Miniscule. So tiny and bold....

There is a sign that never grows old....

Delicate...except cold!

No, taste to thy tongue does it hold...

I love to see it all!

Bitter, cold, wet, icy and hail gather(s).

Created a child fancy: Snowball(s).

We are fleeing the cold object.

I will never be without mittens.

How do we sleigh to this tune as subject?

Fallen to Earth, soft as a newborn kitten.

My kittens fur are akin to them.

To be soft, inside and warm?...

We are similar in comparison....

Why do I think of fellow companions?

Now.

I clean off my automobile.

I feel like flying paper mobiles?

No time for that.

A fleeting moment, I enjoyed tiny snowball tracks

Remained of hail....

Cold, soft, fallen snow tale knows.