The Last Hoorah of Old Man Winter 2022

The last hoorah of old man winter 2022? March twelfth Ded Moroz struts his white stuff first real substantial puncheon found Jack Frost in his glory, he haint no longer morose nor gruff, cuz series of fortunate meteorological events found crystalline precipitation hoary. I revel watching the bit torrent of snowflakes alight upon the greensward; a cold wind bloweth and doth bite any exposed flesh of daredevil (the re:noun Evel Knievel of verbiage) weather beaten soul trundling with delight inured to brutal cold all fours seasons excite contemplative character asked me to ghostwrite, thus a reasonable rhyme yielded courtesy wuthering height. Yours truly breathes deep sigh of relief, when surprise blizzard came our way, no matter yours truly solitary fellow holed up in me mancave yay, he experiences unfettered glee for picturesque blustery scene today eight sleeps before Spring Equinox glad second rate nor'easter pummeled Southeastern Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. The near future forecast bodes well nigh arrival of vernal equinox when the sun crosses celestial equator in northerly direction, marking prime meridian of right ascension. Fanfare for common man (think das scribe spinning these lines) grateful timely notion kindled inside mine noggin truth be told - before onset of storm, I drew one blank after another and felt at my wits end regard apropos material to write about. Methought to soon to post poem about beware the ides of March, (approximately sixty one and a half hours hence, similar explanation regarding summoning creative literary endeavor honoring Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit, thus imposed upon figurative shoulders (mine) to hash out some marginally passable verse. Now attention pauses to take look see out bedroom window watching medley of gusty air in sync with blizzard conditions, yet yours truly snug as a bug in a rug despite not turning on the heat, and would ye believe bard of Perkiomen Valley only donned in ma birthday suit?