It is fun to sit in the window-seat,
When all outdoors is snow and sleet,
For everywhere I look I see
Things that aren't what they seem to be.
The fence-posts, each with a cap of snow,
Look like soldiers all in a row;
While just over there, the kitchen pump
Looks like a rabbit about to jump.
Down by the gate, that tall white ghost
Is really only the hitching post;
While under the tree, that polar bear
Is only our old rustic chair.
