Mary Ann Hoberman


In winter when the biting breezes
Blow and all the water freeze,
Then it’s time, it’s time to go
Skating on the ice.

Choose a day that’s bright and clear,
Bundle up from toe to ear;
It’s the time, the time of year
For skating on the ice.

I perch upon the snowy rocks
And pull on both my woolen socks;
I lace my skates and tie them fast
And then I’m up and off at last.

I cannot make a figure eight
(I still have trouble going straight)
But just the same I love to skate,
To ice-skate on the ice.

From: ALL MY SHOES COME IN TWOS, ill. by Norman Hoberman (Little, Brown & Co., Boston, 1957). Also in THE LLAMA WHO HAD NO PAJAMA, ill. by Betty Fraser (Browndeer Press, Harcourt, 1998).

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