Author Mary Effie Lee Newsome In wintertime I have such fun When I play quoits with father. I beat him almost every game. He never seems to bother. He looks at mother and just smiles. All this seems strange to me, For when he plays with grown-up folks, He beats them easily. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments