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Poem

These are the latest, unpleasant news...
that I bring you along with my winter's blues:
the gusts of a mad month to make you shiver more,
never thinking of opening another door!


And should I call on the heavy snow,
and make the furious wind whistle...
when you'll step outside with words not too humble?
What else can make you shrill like a soprano?


I'll be unkind and mercilessly rude,
regardless of how you plead;
I been called brutal and wild:  as a horse without a harness,
to pillage and destroy with an attitude which is vicious, indeed!
                              

Nobody can win me over by persuasion or guile,
I am easily angered to invoke the intense storms;
and trying to appease me can intensify my vengeance inside...  
remember, gentleness s not one of my virtues, but wickedness is!                


Snuggle your teddy bear and stay warm,
just hear the gusts  of a mad month;
I can't enter where I am not welcome...
but sympathy I must extend to a frightened gal!         


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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