A little poetry for the frost-bitten
The wind is howling,
There’s lots of snow,
The temperature’s dropped
To one below.
No point in going out today,
In fact, I’m staying in.
I think I’ll run a bath instead,
Submerged up to my chin.
Later on, when darkness comes,
And supper is digested,
I’ll take a look outside to see,
If weather has corrected.
A frozen wasteland is the view,
Aghast, I slam the door.
If winter’s going to be like this,
I’m home forevermore.