a poem by William Willis, Scotland

NOTE-Right now Scotland is suffering it's worsed winter since 1963.The severe weather has put the whole country at a stand-still.....

Polar bears in kilts, it's now minus fiveteen.
Ice cube cars and wellies and our frozen windscreens.
Roads are all at grid-lock,schools are closed across the land.
Whole communities shovelling snow, all working hand in hand.

Where are our gritters and our snow-plough's, is oor salt in short supply?
All my poor winter pansies, bet your boots there going to die.
My snowman's got the flu, my sledge has two buckled blades.
And now i've slipped a disc out and i've broken three good spades.

People wearing earmuffs, snoods and scarves, no skin to bare.
But i am in a Glasgow Betting Shop, not in Moscow's Red Square.
My wee car's like a bobsleigh as it trundles through the snow.
My toes are cold, my bum is numb and my cheeks they are aglow.

River Clyde has all iced over, cancelled trains and frozen locks.
Leggins, gloves and thermal undies, woolly hats and soggy socks.
All my gutters have collapsed and caved in, my snowman's head.
And the birds, they are all starving, better throw them out some bread.

Penguins play the bagpipes, carrol singers join in too.
Susan Boyle sings White Christmas in the icy morning dew.
Scotland.... Shivvering to a stand-still, this winter really is a corker.
Stuff this vicious winter weather.i am off now to Majorca.

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