Crotchety old crank, leave us alone!
Snow to our arses and froze to the bone!
It’s not enough that you moved right in,
But you’re always cuffing us on the chin!
Storm and storm and storm again!
Look at the mess you’ve got us in!
Your wintry breath an icy chill
You throw your wrath at us at will!
Rotten scoundrel, begone I say!
Don’t make us miserable another day!
Your frigid shawl of icy white
Wrapped around us good and tight,
Runny noses, colds and flu
Can’t wait until your reign is through!
Mark my words Spring will come!
And then your hold on us will be done!
© Annabel Sheila