Ice

 Though they’re like diamonds in the rough –

I confess I have had enough –

Of New England roads just glazed with ice.

It’s a pretty picture that they make –

But I’m afraid my bones will break,

And that would not be so very nice.

Now I know that ice is part

Of New England’s very heart –

It’s a part that I can live without.

I fear my feet will slip and slide

And on my fanny I will glide –

Couldn’t print the words that I might shout.

Come on, “Ole Sol”, Shine on high,

Make that ice go “Bye-Bye”

And put my feet again on dry ground.

My apologies to you snow-bunnies,

And to all other cold-blooded honeys

But I’ll feel better when spring comes ‘round.