Help! This cold makes my brain ache
Chilled to the bone each breath I take
Surely there is some mistake
The Weathermen our ears assail
With another cold snap down the trail
This February frosts prevail
How we hate that!
Early mists o'er meadows lie
The wind is sharp, tears in my eye
OK, a few hours of clear sky
As from midday
Without gloves, hands go sapphire blue
Many friends have got the 'flu
Their motivation all shot through
"Stay home!" I say.
But then a bird comes swooping past
Perhaps on a nest-seeking task
And I hear his cheery song at last
Next to my ear
I look around – Wow! Not a cloud
In Belgium is such blue allowed?
So there are times when I am proud
That I live here!
(c) Poet in the woods 2018