Snow

 This poem has seven syllables in every other line and ten in the other lines.

Snow

Fantastic snow piles up high.
We hold our sleds and wait at the window.

Our dog does not like it, why?

I go outside, and take a big slip, whoa!

We zoom down the perfect hill.

Snow in our eyes, frost at our finger tips.

I'm cold but is stay, I will!

Not leaving until the sled bottom rips.