Snowball

In winter’s hush, a snowball forms,

A crystal sphere of frosty charms.

It starts with flake and fragile touch,

Yet gathers strength with every clutch.

From gentle roll to boulder’s might,

In silent grace, its magic tells.

It carries whispers of the cold,

The fleeting dreams of winter’s hold.

A fleeting ball of icy art,

It mirrors change, a moving heart.

When spring arrives, it melts away,

Yet leaves a trace of winter’s play.

In every drop, a tale retold—

Of transient beauty, pure and bold.