The weather was chill and my little face glum.
The wet and the wind had announced they’d arrived
When my fingers and toes said they’d lief stay inside.
The choice was not theirs: I just knew they were wrong
When my tongue and my lips began to break out in song.
‘It’s Christmas acomin’, we’re striving to sing
Those beautiful carols – when can we begin?’
My shoulders were aching from hefting a load
Of presents for all of my friends down the road.
My feet and my ankles were terribly sore.
What was I to do, with my body at war?
My fingers and toes all refused to attend:
Cold frozen and stiff, they followed no trend.
And while I was trying to prise them apart
My nose, hereto quiet, awoke with a start.
It decided it just had to join in the fun,
So without a delay it then started to run.
I looked for a tissue, without any success:
I really was in such a terrible mess.
My hero arrived, with roast chestnuts, mulled wine
I instantly knew that he had to be mine.
He cajoled to obedience all of those parts
Which were frozen: above all, he melted my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment