Winter

“I’m reclaiming Winter!” Gran announced with a smile
I wondered: I hadn’t seen her in a while
But Granny was always so young and so spry
There didn’t seem anything she wouldn’t try.
“So Winter is lost - it’s missing, it’s gone?”
I decided to humour my Granny along.
But to my astonishment she nodded her head
At the truth of my words I had only just said.
“That’s right – just you look: just listen to me!”
I gazed through the window, but all I could see
Was rain, cloud and fog – not a sunbeam in sight
The day was so dark it could almost be night.
“So what do you mean?” I wondered aloud
“How could it be lost? Winter’s always around
these dark days ‘fore Christmas. We’re longing for snow
to cheer up our spirits and help the days go.”
“That’s right!” said my Gran, “That’s just what I mean
This dull dreary weather should never have been.
I’m ordering snow through this website I’ve found
So before you all know it, while I’m still around
There’ll be white stuff galore to cheer us all up.
Now, who’s going to help make the Wassailing Cup?”
So saying, she wandered away with a smile
I wondered: I haven’t seen her for a while
Not since I awoke to a snow sprinkled morn
Where, standing in splendour outside on the lawn
Was a wonderful snowman – or lady, I’d say
With a smile on her face and a hatful of hay.
“Yes, Winter is here now,” said a voice in my head.
But oh, what a pity, that Gran is now dead.

Winter lament

I know it is Winter: it’s dark and it’s cold
it plays up me rheumatics now I am old.
But still, all the same, I just can’t accept
the cold and the grey and the eternal wet.

What’s happened to Winter? To tell you the truth
it’s nothing like Winter was all through my youth.
First we had autumn, with glorious leaves:
huge windy days and frightening trees.

Then the gales started. Nights black as sin.
We cuddled by firesides, ate crumpets, stayed in.
Till suddenly waking one day with alarm
‘cos outside the house ‘twas unnaturally calm.

Oh the lightness and brightness of wonderful snow:
we dashed out the house with our faces aglow.
We whooped and we danced and we sang out for joy
oh, snow was our uttermost favourite toy!

And so Winter began: the snow came to stay
as our constant companion all through those days.
Our world stayed quite white, frost rimed my nose,
my fingers, my mittens, every one of my toes.

But I didn’t care: no, none of us did.
No longer cared we that Summer was hid.
Oh bring back old Winter, who cares if we freeze?
It’s better than sitting in wet to our knees.

Disappearance on Christmas Eve

The day had drawn on when my Mama announced
She had to go out: and so off out she flounced,
Leaving us children to fend for ourselves
My mama went off with a party of elves.

And how do I know? Well, I’ll tell you the tale:
I know, when you hear it, I’ll see your face pale
When you hear of the horrors my mama endured
To ensure that our table was laden with food.

It was Christmas: outside all were merry and jolly
as they chattered off home with their fir trees and holly.
But our pitiful house was filled only with fear
of starvation and cold and a miserable year.

Mama had just fed us our small bowls of gruel
when, stripping her apron, she said, “what a fool
I have been! Just stay here and wait for the morn:
be sure that at Christmas you won’t be forlorn.”

Then stepping outside, she waved once, and again
and out of the darkness, the cold and the rain
there appeared an old farmcart, filled right to the brim
with elves: wearing green, and with face-splitting grins.

“You’re welcome!” they cried as Mama stepped on board
“We’re needing a meal.” Then, grabbing a cord
they tied her up tight, as trussed as a hen
and laughing quite evilly, vanished again.

We wondered, we worried, but what could we do?
‘Our Mama knows best’ is but all that we knew.
We slept as we huddled together that night:
the next morn we awoke: but oh - what a sight!

The table was laden with meat, cheese and cakes,
puddings and pasties – all manner of bakes.
I never did hear of the horrors endured
to ensure that our table was laden with food.

Winter arrives! Or, War in Winter

So autumn was over: the leaves were all done,
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.