Winter ~ A Poem

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!


6 thoughts on “Winter ~ A Poem

  1. This is so lovely, Rosie. Here’s why:

    The rhyming really only works for Australian-accented English.
    I have chosen only to take into account the American meaning of “thong.” Saaaaucy!

  2. Love it! Though your last line leaves me worried that there is no cheese, wine and bread in Winter? That is the whole reason I’m coming to France! Oh and to see you of course : )

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s