Arriving in France I thought I would care,
About fashion and style…All the clothes I would wear!
A dress made for dancing, a matching beret,
A red scarf and booties to complete the cliché.
Then came 1st December; it snuck up so fast.
And now that it’s winter, I cannot be arsed.
Let me wear snow pants, a thick balaclava,
Some ear muffs and toe socks; doesn’t matter what colour.
I can’t feel my nose, fingers cold to the tip.
Can’t hold onto a tissue, is there snot on my lip?
I’m obsessed with the forecast, is it nought or below?
A cold and dry evening…Does that frigging mean snow?
So many questions, I never considered;
How do ducks swim in winter? Aren’t their feet cold and withered?
When will it be over? Oh how I long,
To wear summery dresses, and bejeweled patent thongs.
Although I love Europe, I’m beginning to freeze.
I dream of the spring time; eating bread, wine and cheese!