Winter
When icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When Blood is nipped and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-who;
Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-who;
Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
William Shakespeare
3 comments:
This takes me right back to primary school, when the milk arrived with the bottle-tops pushed 2" into the air. Thanks for the re-reading opportunity.
I used to eat in a cafe owned by Greasy Joan I think. Well only once. Not quite like that here yet, the blizzards of yesterday did not settle for long.
The picture makes me feel all Christmassy. They say we may have sleet or snow tomorrow, depending on which forecast we choose to believe that is!
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