Winter is coming

Its two centuries since Shelley said what then came to his mind
He wrote that when winter comes, can spring be far behind.
I respect him as a poet, but one thing is quite clear
He didn’t spend his winters in New Brunswick, no not here.
Both seasons may occur here, but I sadly must report
Winter is quite lengthy and spring is far too short.
Winter’s on its way now, and very soon I know
On high ground in the north today they’re forecasting snow
Right now the sky is bright and clear but I am not enchanted
As I watch the squirrels digging up the tulips I have planted.
So before the winter blanket covers all the lawns bare patches
I shall make my preparations to batten down the hatches.
I start with the hibiscus, I bring it in each year
Transplanted to a flower pot with a certain lack of care
As I drag it through the kitchen it gets caught up in the door
Spreading leaves and topsoil to fertilise the floor.
The windows must be fortified, I know it seems amazing
But we never have yet got around to put in double glazing.
So I cover them in plastic to minimise the thrills
I’ll get when I open my winter power bills.
I’ll find some extra blankets to spread upon the beds
And dig out all the wooly hats to put upon our heads
I shall try to keep on biking, but it may not be that nice
To avoid disaster when I hit a patch of ice.
But I’ve made a key appointment, I really feel inspired
Next Friday morning, just like me our car will be retyred.