Snow poetry

Once a year, I like to meet and ask softly:
Can you remember me?
Dear children, I came to touch me with your little hand. I flew to your head to make you look good. I flew to the boundless wheat field and peeled off the seeds of love. I flew to the wide road and laid the white green carpet. I flew to you. Bring the joy of the Spring Festival to the side! Children give me a good tomorrow together