Icy glass stars cover the sky,
While icicles of cold teeth are hanging by.
Even the sun sends out frozen rays,
As we see once more the bleak winter days.
Pavements are turned into skating rinks,
And alpine snowy slopes eclipse local golf links.
Windows are lined with frosty white traces,
Cold winter winds nip and bite peoples faces. Stalactites are hanging from silver kitchen taps,
Old folk and young needing more layers of wraps.
Fragments of ice intermingle together,
Leaving slippery slides in abominable weather.
East winds that cut night through to the bone,
Oh let us scurry and make our way home.
A bright fire ablaze and a hot bottle in bed,
Now is the time to rest our weary heads. But memories remain of the battle outside,
As from the cruel cold winter we can but try to hide.
While inside we listen to storms that so lash,
Let not our hopes fall but rise from the ash.
For in a few months we'll be able to sing,
Goodbye to bleak Winter and welcome mild Spring. Joy M Lister, Thorpe Street, Bolton.
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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