Old Man Winter was never a beginner, he arrived like a pro and dropped a foot of snow. The stores were closed, everyone was hosed. The electric was out, my aching gout. I thought I must hustle to find the snow shovel. I dug and dug, but I got no hug. I was singing tenor, when I picked up a splinter. The Misses called with a very loud shout, I was thoroughly appalled when she bawled me out. I threw down the shovel, I was in such a hustle. I went in the house, and sat by a mouse. I fell into a snooze, without any booze. When I awoke, I knew I was broke. The Misses was gone, it was almost dawn. The abode was bare, except for my chair. The house was cold, it would have to be sold. I knew it was over, then I saw Rover. I had some hope, I knew I could cope. I saw the light, everything was bright. I knew I could survive and not take a dive. I had to succeed cause I never would plead. Old Man Winter, he blew in the cold, not even a splinter could make me fold.
Old Man Winter Poem.