When the world is puddle-muddle
And the worms within the ground
Shake their tired little bodies
And the wind goes round and round,
Then the joy-filled little children
Dressed like yellow Eskimos
Stomp and splash at their reflections
And await the coming snows.
What a wonderland awaits them
When the cold air takes its flight:
All the world is clothed and furnished
In a cozy froth of white.
And it melts and drizzles coolness
Drop by drop and tick by tock,
As the quiet of the morning
Is reflected on the clock.
All the creatures of the forest
Who await the worlds rebirth
Rise again renewed with vigor
And a never-ending mirth.
Suddenly the sun is hotter
And the kids stay out till night
Telling ghost tales by the campfire,
Staying warm throughout the night.
And the world again exhausted
Makes a final drowsing sweep
Once again enters its blanket,
Once again makes time for sleep.