On a December day some years ago
Three boys decide to play in the snow
A snowball fight is what it would be
So they made their piles, counting ... "one, two, three!"
Soon balls were flying all over the place
Sometimes in the chest, sometimes in the face
But the game didn't last as long as you'd think
After just a few hits, to their knees they would sink
So moms loaded them up and drove them away
To the doctor's office, for a hospital stay
The doctor asked one lad, "What happened here, son?"
The boy replied, "Snowball fight...and man, was it fun!"
A questioning look came over doc's face
And he spoke without doubt, not even a trace
"Son, it hasn't snowed here in nearly three years.
It all turns to rain as soon as it nears."
The boy looked up with a face mighty stern
As if the good doc had something to learn
"Well...we use our imagination, ole doc.
When we ain't got the snow, we just use a rock."
*This poem was inspired by Heather Ober's poem, 'Snowy Love'
Although this story, unlike most of mine, isn't completely true, we did often substitute dirt clods for snowballs...and many kids went home with black eyes and busted noses.