The Wonderful Winter Which Wuzn't

By G. E. Shuman



There once was a winter which really just wuzn’t.

I’ll tell you the cause, just because it did cause it.

It was something to do with no snow that did flew,

And a temperature, too, that was really too pleasant.



For winter is just such a confusing season,

That needs not a bit of a reasonable reason,

To pelt us with sleet, and pile snow on our street,

And then leave us in slush, while we’re wheezin’ n’ freezin’.



But this one was different, it’s wonderfully true,

So different, it’s different to me and to you,

Than last year‘s, or others, proclaimed by our mothers,

As the harshest of winters that they ever knew.



It’s just strange, when I think, that a mid-February,

Could bring such warm winds that would linger and tarry.

So that I could wash cars, then at night, gaze at stars,

On a mid-winter midnight, in Vermont, in Barre.



And I love the deep, deafening, rumbling pause,

When my furnace shuts off, cause it can, just because,

As the warmth of the sun, hits our house, all for fun,

It defies some old wintertime coldness-y laws.



And my snow blower simply just blows me away,

When under the carport, in silence, it stays.

I enjoy it a lot, as it sits in its spot,

A reminder of blizzard-y other-year days.



I’ve heard skiers and boarders profoundly complaining,

That they don’t like the slopes when it’s foggy and raining.

They should not say a peep, cause umbrellas are cheap,

And the crowds and the traffic are, blissfully, waning.



So… we just had a winter, which wuzn’t, I’m guessing,

And I’m thankful for just such a non-winter blessing,

That saved me some dough, with its big lack of snow.

I’ve enjoyed it… I guess that’s what I’m now confessing.