What is hot? The steaming bonfire blazing the wood, a roasting toast sitting on the side and a sizzling sausage waiting to been eaten.

What is cold? A chilly night at midnight with freezing PJs, a snowy day with the radiator cool at a gusty darkness and a bitter day coming on its way.

What is tall? A bushy green tree with brown bark on it, a house with hard bricks painted with brown potatoes and a giraffe eating the scaled green leaves.

What is small? A teeny tiny mouse with a sniffling pink nose, a golden beetle with antennae flopping everywhere and a bright green pea glistening with steam.

What is fast? The steam of a race car flashing past, a herd of deer careering past the terrifying humans and their hair swishing in the wind as they are sprinting past. 

What is slow? The bright sun moving dreamily through the sky, the sticky slug trying to climb the toadstool and the waving plant as the wind is drifting past.

What is soft? The feathery sofa with spotty spots, a cosy sock snuggling my foot in and a onesie cuddling me as I walk downstairs.

What is hard? The solid rock leaning against my head, a fork spiking into my fleshy back and a harsh door shutting upon my arm.