Tirzah Conway Poet Rhyme

Snow, How I Loathe You

The frigid air bites at my nose,
As I step outside for a smoke;
The pristine snow fills my boots,
And I snuggle deeper into my cloak;

A foot and a half in the last two days,
To me it seems surreal;
An icy droplet hits my neck,
And I let out a startled squeal;

I silently curse this dratted snow,
That froze my water pipes;
When I said it out loud my husband complained,
“That all you can do, is gripe”

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Carolyn Devonshire February 5, 2011 at 2:55 AM The title caught my attention, Tirzah, and I was laughing reading this poem. In Florida we often envy people who get to romp and play in the snow. But the forzen pipes we can do without! Tell your husband he can do all the shoveling. In fact, you might just say, "Shovel it!" Love, Carolyn