It's the twelfth of the twelfth of the twelfth,
and the squirrels are scurrying with stealth.
Fluffy fat robins are hop bobbing
all around this frosty morning,
hoar frost glitters the trees
sparkling white tendrils on biting blue sky,
and sugar coats the berries.
This is surely an auspicious date
One that I'll never see again
Perhaps we should celebrate,
this calculation made by clever men.
Some peanuts for the creatures,
a robin for the cat,
For me, a large hot chocolate,
and a very silly hat.
I happen to have worn silly hats most of my working life and especially appreciate the closing line of your excellent poem. My compliments!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete