<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=578086" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Romance of Winter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It looks like snow, it must be snow, it really, really feels like snow, <br>It's on my lashes, and on my nose, it's frozen my poor little toe, <br>It came too soon, last too late, right now I cannot find my gate, <br>Inside now what a soppy state, this thawing out I really hate, <br>The fire it seems is getting low, it only adds more to my woe, <br>Outside it's cold with winters glow, as now the wind begins to blow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On with boots, gloves, coat, and hat, out to the barn to feed the cat, <br>In this weather he won't get fat, but neither will he catch a rat. <br>The cows are full of milk today, the sheep have now begun to bay, <br>Chicks get corn, to cold to lay, the donkey's cross he wants his hay, <br>My husbands says it's no big deal, and checks the oven for his meal, <br>My coat and gloves I start to peel, where has he been thru this ordeal? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He loves the winter's charming feel, in an office warm... get real.<br>The snow for me has lost apeal, the charm has fled, from this deal.<br>Where is summer's warming sun, no more snow, I've had my fun, <br>Winter's romance has faded and run, now all I want is to be done.<br>But it looks like snow, it feels like snow, <br>Oh poo, it really is more snow...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Teresa+Dearing">Teresa Dearing</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=578086" data-title="The Romance of Winter de Teresa Dearing" data-description="It looks like snow, it must be snow, it really, really feels like snow, It's on my lashes, and on my nose, it's frozen my poor little toe, It came too soon, last too late, right now I cannot find my gate, Inside now what a soppy state, this tha..."></div> </div> </div>

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