the immigrant...continued

winter


i was born in africa
beneath her big blue sky
three days without our sunshine
we wanted to know why
have you ever been to scotland
in winter time let's say
when wind and rain surround the hills
and every day is grey
the cattle in the fields
half hidden by the fog
ground which was once solid
now oozing like a bog
the sheep once brown and dirty
now clean and white again
the super cleansing action
of harsh wind driven rain
the sea is dark and ominous
it rolls it's way to shore
the summer birds which once sun bathed
are sun bathing no more
they huddle in collections
their faces to the breeze
wet and quite bedraggled
enduring winter's freeze
the howling gales arrive
they whistle and they wail
try hard to lift the slate roof
we're lucky if they fail
the windows often rattle
the force of driven rain
comes all the way from ireland
to beat upon our pane
these house walls have been standing
two hundred years or more
no matter what the weather does
it stops right at the door
the central heating kicks in
to keep the stone walls warm
we light the logs and dreaming gaze
at flames e'r changing form
hot chocolate or a wee dram
to soothe and fortify
some people don't like winter
i often wonder why

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann