Jack Frost;
James K Baxter (The Tree House)
Look out, look out,
Jack Frost's about!
He'll nip your ears
And bite your snout!
He'll chap your knees
And make you sneeze;
Your fingers and
Your toes he'll freeze.
His magic makes
The mountains grow;
He learnt it from
His mother, Snow.
Yet he makes tiny
Glittering fronts
On window panes,
And ice on ponds.
When out of school
We dance and skip
He's waiting there
To pinch and nip.
Beware! Beware!
Leave nothing bare
When Jack Frost whistles
Through the air.
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