It is now August,
And what do I see?
Trees without leaves,
Looking down at me.
Snow is on the ground,
And flurries in the air,
It lands on the rooftops,
And drifts onto my hair.
Yet the sun is hot,
And not a cloud is seen,
And yet there is still ice,
Floating in the stream.
The ground is covered in thick white snow,
The bears and squirrels do sleep.
And yet it is still summer,
And out are the b...
