It’s C…C…C…Cold this Morning.

It was very cold at the bus stop at 6:45 this morning, when the warm bus came I could have hugged the driver. I didn’t though but did find this poem forming in my mind so I finished it off when I got to work.

The wind sends its eager cold hands
To tug at my coat like an impatient lover
Keen to share an icy embrace.
I resist this clumsy advance
So changing tactics the wind instead
Nibbles my neck with icy teeth.
I stand firm thinking of a cooked breakfast
And the delights of hot sausages
Warming my boots.


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