Sunday, 31 January 2010

Winter 2010

Snow and ice - what will you do?

In biting frost even birds are mute

and all you have are boots - and you.

I’ll stay inside a little tower

block up all holes, with no way in

conserve my heat, protect my power.

What if the tower shakes and falls

in a grip of ice, a crazy squeeze;

what would you do with yourself at all?

I ‘d choose to walk about in the dark,

and play around, lean on my stick;

I’d throw a ball, I’d have a lark.

And what if trees and sky cave in,

freezing bark and breaking sticks.

How to survive your lovely skin?

I’d amble on where I belong

in step - and steps would have no end:

I will go on where I belong;

I’ll hold a hand, I’ll find a friend.

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