I do not mind you, Winter Wind

when you come whirling by,

to tickle me with snowflakes

drifting softly from the sky.

I do not even mind you

when you nibble at my skin,

scrambling over all of me

attempting to get in.

But when you bowl me over

and I land on my behind,

then I must tell you, Winter Wind,

I mind! I really mind!

By

Jack Prelutsky