Blizzard

Music to be sung to the tune of “Hark the herald Angels sing.”

Late be the snow but its arrival
makes me ask “Oh where’s the shovel?”
Get hat on, scarf and beglove
to face what just skiers love
and it’s displace frozen flake
braving mass angina ache.
With the neighbours I implore
“How can I plow back to the door?”
From our brows, sweat we’ll wring
and lo our backs are breaking!

When the snow surpassed our boots
then we’d achieved our olde roots.
My huffing and then my puffing
I fight my way half crying
back up steps. No, it is locked!
Seconds slumping I then banged
till my child with mercy mild
does ope wild: we’re reconciled.
From my over things I strip
with cocoa to sooth and sip.
From our brows, sweat we’ll wring
and lo our backs are breaking!

I laugh and grab my pent breath
so alive though near death
out in the elements, mark
my words my offspring, oh hark!
“There’s no shame to honest work.
Nothing gained if it you shirk.
Look outside now and see how!”
He does and scrunched goes his brow.
I stumble up and back in
my gear I must get a-shovl’in.
From our brows, sweat we’ll wring
and lo our backs are breaking!


intro

About tgrignon

I came I saw I rented the DVD
This entry was posted in Miscellany and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Blizzard

  1. Pingback: Twelvetide Silliness coming: run for the hills! | Golbing

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