[NicknamedBob]

‘Ware the Wind

‘Ware the wind! It seeks you out,
And does not give a warning shout,
But keens a wail, of laments dread,
And pounces on the unwrapped head.

Shrug into covers, out of doors,
Scurry quickly on the moors,
Listen sharp for crack of twig,
Hustle to the next warm swig.

This be Winter! Aye, and more,
There’s a Devil at the door,
Seeking fire like the sinned,
Huddle warm, and ‘ware the wind!

NicknamedBob . . . November 1, 2004

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning, Bob!

Ah good verse on a Monday morning. Thanks much.