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Poem

An icy wind blows,
Freezing winter snows.
Icicles hanging from trees,
Like jewels in a wintry breeze.

Cold hands, cold feet,
Hail, turning to sleet.
The sun now shines bright,
But the cold beckons an icy night.

No tables outside the shop today,
Come inside the assistants say.
We have hot tea, coffee and cake,
Please buy from us for the Hospice sake.

Come in, browse, and pass the day,
Maybe buy a coat, keep the chill away.
Sit at a table and drink your fill,
Warm and safe from the winters chill.

Take a look at our books, we have many in stock,
If you don't want a book, you can buy a clock.
The choice is yours, there is no pressure,
Come in and chat, browse at your leisure.

The staff at the shop are volunteers all,
They give up their time to answer the call.
The money you give this day will be well spent,
To build the Hospice with every cent.

Soon the time will come when the doors will open,
To welcome it's clients both young and old.
When the hospitals have done their best,
The Hospice staff will do the rest.

It is only with help from people like you,
The money you give for that coat, shirt or brew.
The staff at the shop have nothing to gain,
The money donated helps relieve so much pain.

Please visit us whenever you can,
With God's help we will fulfil this plan.

I wrote this on a rare wintry day in Paphos, Cyprus. 
Where I work in our Hospice shop.

© Dave Timperley 2012

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