He stood upon his little chair to look out of the room And saw the frost that glistened With diamonds from the moon. He saw the leaves that withered On roses that were limp A white enamel crusted On petals that were pink. He saw the hedgerow tied up With gossamer in threads And symmetry discarded In geometric webs. He saw the cloud reluctant To come back or to go And hoped it would come back to him When it filled up with snow.