A Snowman’s Saga

Three inches might not
Seem like very much
When it comes to blizzards
And snowstorms and such

But that’s what we got
And it didn’t seem fitting
To stay snug and cozy
Inside and sitting

With our condo parking lot
Blanketed in snow
And so we decided
To give it a go

It’s like riding a bike
We convinced ourselves
And quickly became
Snowman-building elves

He’s not very tall
But cute as can be
He has certain charm
As you yourself see

While taking his picture
We were not alone
Several folks did the same
Before he was gone

For we knew it not wise
To get too attached
To this little snowman
We had ourselves hatched

The Carolina sun
Did it’s job quickly
And our spunky snowman
Began to look sickly

By late afternoon
I was rather forlorn
Since all that was left
Was the hat he had worn

Carpe diem must be
The moral of this story
I do hope it wasn’t
Too sad or too gory

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Spring Already, Spring

I like my wool sweaters
Really I do
But by this time of year
You’d think I’d be through

Record cold temps
The weatherman tells me
So of my wool sweaters
I’m not yet set free

I have cotton blouses
And tee-shirts galore
Shucking the heavy stuff
That’s what spring’s for

Grey, beiges, and blacks
I’m so sick of these hues
I’m ready for paisley,
Pinks, and bright blues

Daffodils have blossomed
Robins have appeared
But I’m still wearing wool
Sorry, but that’s weird

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In Hot Water

Soaking in hot water’s
Supposed to be bad
But when winter weather
Starts making me sad
I have a nice bathub
For which I am glad

I fill the thing up
Every night before bed
And sit down and soak
Till my skin turns all red
So that sleeping with shivers
I don’t need to dread

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Who’s the Boss

When winter comes
I need extra heat
So I put a space heater
At the foot of my feet

Betty the cat
Has figured it out
If I don’t want to share
She will start to pout

She hops on my chair
And makes herself comfy
But soon she decides
That’s still not enuffy

With all her might
She prods and pushes
This chair is too small
For both of our tushes

Tired of fighting
The cat for some space
I get up and move
I do know my place

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Snow in November?

Snow in SC
On November one
I do not think
That’s very much fun

Close the windows
Turn on the heat
I do not think
Winter’s so neat

My nose is running
My feet are cold
I do not think
On winter I’m sold

Put on a sweater
Dig out my mittens
I do not think
With winter I’m smitten

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A Winter’s Lament

Cold weather stinks
That’s what me thinks

A chill in the air
And Cindy don’t pair

Of sweaters and mittens
I am not too smittens

Scarves and heavy coats
Mean sneezes and sore throats

I bundle up and layer the wool
Drink hot tea until I’m full

Even so I can’t get warm
So being cold becomes the norm

I come from up north
But this I put forth

Birds fly south for a reason
They, too, hate the winter season

So when it begins to snow
Southward I will try to go

I hope you believe this
I’d rather be sleeveless

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Weather Pleasure

A poem about weather
Oh, what a bore
But all those cold temps
I did most abhor
When winter lingered
And lingered some more

But now it does feel
Like spring has begun
So venturing outside
Can actually be fun
When it comes to spring fever
I am second to none

And with spring having sprung
You know what that says?
Summer cannot be
Very too far aways
And that is the season
That gets my most praise!

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Fun: Vermont Style

When the dead of winter comes each year
In a little town I hold so dear
Folks decide there is a reason
To take a plunge and make themselves freezin’

With the temp so low and the lake so frozen
I myself would not have chosen
To do something so bold
As to take a dip in the cold

But my friends in V. T.
Are much different than me
They think it’s nice
To cut a hole in the ice

They raise funds and divide into teams
And on the big day everyone screams
As one by one, into the lake they go
The heck with the temp, and the ice, and the snow!

And for their efforts what do they get?
Besides freezing cold and thoroughly wet?
Food for the food bank and cash for good causes
I think they deserve many claps and applauses.

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