Poetry for Cold Days

It’s feeling jolly cold today

Dull and boring and somewhat grey

And although I discussed weather yesterday

It’s very nasty and will not go away

OK yes this is the British Isles

And it is not really that common

To see the sun or the suns big shining smiles

So I have drawn one in my bathroom

With crayons, on the bathroom tiles

You see every year in the winter time

About this time of year

I go a little mad you know

And people point and say O DEAR

Yes when I go out, I stagger about

With a sleeping bag wrapped around my head

And fifteen pairs of thermal pants

Of which twelve are always red

And I gaffer tape a pair of cats to my hands

Which I prefer to using gloves

Because when I wave my arms about

I can easily catch lots and lots of doves

And I’ll strip off all their feathers

And stick them all in my shirt . . . (the feathers not the doves)

Which although a little itchy

Really does not hurt

And people point and laugh and say . . . I'm a fool

As mad as a hatter who has totally lost his cool

But I am warm and cosy

With insulating slugs covering my face

While they are all shivering

By a log fire in some Café . . . some place

Probably the one that banned me for being covered in slugs and dropping Dove feathers on their cakes while attempting to cut a hot buttered scone in half with limited vision due to a sleeping bag being wrapped round my head. Apparently they said its not normal, well it is in our house. . . . . OK I Have been told it is not normal in our house either and I have to go and sit in a cold shed. . . . Just as well I'm wrapped up warm is all I can say . . . . . . DAMN I swallowed a Slug. 

Farewell Eagles founder and Guitarist Glenn Frey