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The sun is a shining, a cloudless day,
Things are a happening, come what may,
The wind is a blowing, oh how hard,
Hope the tree doesn't blow out of the yard.
Ah, tis that time of the year,
When only thin folks have to fear.
The wind does blow so like a rocket,
Rocks they must carry in their pockets.
Yes, a March day it is
Women without hats, hair is a frizz,
One time of the year when heavy is nice,
The wind only removes their lice.
But yes, we all know very well,
March winds lead to April’s warm spell.
For then it is buds and flowers in bloom,
No wind to take us to the tomb.
Ah, the prelude to spring,
But winter has not had its last fling,
Snow a coming, wind a blowing,
Soon it will be hard a snowing.
© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)
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