Winter Comforts

Frosty round the edges

     Winter’s shuttin’ down;

All the hills and valleys

     Are a dreary brown.

Winds are whistlin’ lively,

     Snow is in the air;

Woodchuck burrowed deeply

     Doesn’t seem to care.

Winders all are battened,

     Stock is housed up tight;

Foxes barkin’ weirdly,

     Through the frosty night.

Kitchen warm an’ cosy,

     Apples plenty, tew;

“Hev a little cider?”

     Don’t keer if I do.

Dec. 1, ‘05