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Poem

I'd like you all to keep this under your hat

It's a real mild winter where we're at

Grass is showing in the park cross the way

The sun is shining almost every day

Something's got crossed but complaining I'm not

Last winter was ugly it's surely a plot

The weather people are not following the script

Maybe they should all be repeatedly whipped

Till they beg for mercy down on their knees

For confusing us locals, trying to please

We'd rather you tell us the weather will be fine

Then we can blame you when the sun don't shine

Your job, you can have it, it's a no-win situation

Predicting the weather for someone's vacation

It's really a gamble, just bite your tongue

The odds are great, you're going to get stung



© Jack Ellison 2014

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