Sleet
Though rain in the spring might be sweet,
Something flowers and bushes all greet,
In the winter what falls
Is what hardly enthralls,
But instead is that stuff known as sleet.
It makes all the cars slip and slide
And for people who venture outside,
We get pelted with ice,
Which is not very nice
And we couldn’t walk fast if we tried.
Without all the beauty of snow,
And making our to and fro slow,
Sleet just gets in the way
And it spoils the day;
How I wish it would get up and go!
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2019
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