Some people find it amusing and pleasing
to frolic around in weather that’s freezing.
They say that it falls from the sky with such grace,
then mold it in spheres that are thrown at my face.
What madness it is to think that white flakes
are beautiful. No, rather cosmic mistakes!
It piles up into large heaps and mounds.
Think it’s nice? Look twice at the cities and towns!
How lovely are they, those bright beds of lush.
With some dirt and dog mess, it’ll turn into slush!
And I’m certain that you will be no jolly fellow
To step in some white that has now become yellow.
Whether I’m moody or just getting old,
I’d rather not touch things that make my hands cold.
The gloves do not help; the wetness seeps through,
but at least…never mind, there’s a hole in my shoe.
Trying to walk very carefully fails
As I slip, trip, and fall. It’s the ice that prevails.
Winter is here and some say so with pride,
but until summer comes, I am staying inside.