Glitter falls down from the clouds,

In resemblance to soft white cotton balls.

The hill tumbles downward to meet the worn street.

The house on the hill

Like the unwavering white of the ground,

Stands straight and strong like the champion of a great feat.

Uncharacteristically spirited the voice sounds,

Joyous laughter seeps through the thin walls.

Eyes peer out of the stained glass, and the rainbow of flurries

Welcome the child with a makeshift sled.

Excited cheers and without any care,

The sled is placed down and set ready to fly.

Down the hill tumbles the child’s ride,

But, separated, the two drop yards apart.

The child, however, is overtaken with glee,

And all is alright since falls happen in every great feat.