Weather Whimpers
The Groundhog was forcibly drawn from his den;
Six more weeks of winter were forecast, and then…
Came a week of spring in February,
A meteorological missionary.
It was balmy and lovely, bright blue skies;
Our jackets were shorn with the sun in our eyes.
Its last morning dawned at near sixty degrees,
But winter returned and we fell to our knees,
Praying for strength for the month of March:
Our loins have been girded, our spines have been starched.
Are you leery of March? Well, I know I am…
Comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb?
Or, at least that’s how the saying goes;
The truth’s often different, as everyone knows.
So, brace yourselves bravely for winter’s last stand:
Mother Nature’s in charge….we await her command.
Don’t put your mufflers and mittens away;
You’re likely to need them for many a day.
Too soon, winter woes will by saying, “Good-bye,”
We’ll suddenly realize it is July.
With the bugs and the weeds and the hot, humid air,
We’ll wish that the cool days of autumn were there.
Is the weather at fault? Does it cause us to fuss?
Or, is it that there is no way to please us?
Written by
QOE
February 27, 2017