Poetry of sorts

Snow

The time seems to grow,
as the snow falls to the ground.
We're all becoming its captive,
as our belongings become bound,
to the crunchy and slippery noises,
of the cold, hard ground.

We're tied,
by this beautiful weather.
Covering everything in a blanket,
for all to behold.

As what we once knew,
has barely begun to hold,
as the green become white and the water becomes ice,
you can't help but think twice.

What you once saw,
has now become something new.
Everything's been offered ice and slush,
for people to both play and view.

The kids can scream,
at this winter wonderland.
For this is all a dream,
that can be used in many ways.
Lasting for weeks on end, or maybe just a few days.