[ WP ] A boy realises his snowmen have come to life , however when the sun comes up they die an agonising death . One avoids the melt in the shade , and does n't want the same painful fate .

Tom laughed and played all winter day, 
 snuck out with them at night. 
 All winter long, they had their fun, 
 but spring came with a fright. 
 
 Tom flung his window open wide, 
 to let the cold air in. 
 The breeze blew warm and froze his heart, 
 the melting snow dripping. 
 
 Simon, Gertrude, Mary's clothing, 
 scattered on the floor. 
 But one red hat was missing still, 
 Tom cried a searching roar. 
 
 `` Oh John, my friend, what have I done? 
 To bring you all to life, 
 and careless play all winter long, 
 not thinking of your strife. 
 
 For men of snow, and all they have, 
 live fleetingly at best. 
 And summer sun, in rising dawn, 
 would rob you of the rest.'' 
 
 He saw afar a waving branch, 
 three twiggy fingers beckoned. 
 Tom sprinted to the garden shed, 
 socks sodden in a second. 
 
 His figure shrunken, carrot drooping, 
 huddled in the shade. 
 Water running down his face, 
 John melted unmade. 
 
 Tom eyes filled with salty brine, 
 as icy crystals melted. 
 With warm arms he embraced the cold. 
 Both John and Tom sheltered. 
 
 Red hat slipping, dripping faster. 
 Buttons on the ground. 
 John's thin branch crooked in bowing arch, 
 Around his makers frown. 
 
 John raised Tom's face up to his own, 
 his jet black coal eyes twinkling 
 with silent words that Tom heard clear. 
 `` Without you I'd be nothing.'' 
 
 In new spring air, and shivering, 
 in memory Tom swore. 
 `` When next it snows in my backyard, 
 I'll build a hundred more.'' 
 
 *** 
 
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