When it snows, I'll come to play; a warm touch melts me away. I'll stand by in a storm, ice and cold is how I'm born. Imagination sets me free, though my eyes can't really see. Sticks and stones make my bones, but my chilly vibes conjure festive tones.
What am I? Answer: Snowman!
Make time to riddle and rhyme!
62 original riddles and illustrations
Available in all e-book formats
Available in all e-book formats







