Cold Spell


Winter is coming!


My tiny feet are frozen
The wind chill nips my nose
I’ve chilblains on my fingers
And frostbite in my toes

The frigid winds of winter
Come howling round my door
To send their ankle-freezing draughts
Across the bedroom floor.

The days of wine and roses
And sunbathing are past
All that awaits are hours of gloom
The tempest’s icy blast.

The time of coughs and sneezes
Is on us once again
We may as well stop moaning
It’s no use to complain

No amount of wishing will
Make winter go away.
Let’s dive under the duvet
And hibernate till May.



© shadow 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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It is a feeling that I recognise, Moya. I felt a shiver reading about this bleak scenario.
Incidentally, it is quite a coincidence that you used the phrase ‘the days of wine and roses’ as I am working on a piece that contains that very sentence.
Best wishes, Luigi x


I’m not complaining!

This had me reaching for my duvet and a bottle of vodka.


Sounds just what the doctor ordered! (at least you won’t be bothering him! ) seethe 😉


What a bloody good idea! I find the lack of light the hardest part to deal with. I compensate by decking my wee hoosie and garden up with lights. Much enjoyed.
Alison x

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