Winter Blues

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.