[ Its winter here and clutching at warmth ]

A Poem by Marshall

Its winter here and clutching at warmth
and woollen jackets that once seemed silly
when the sun conquered the day, I recall another winter
not so long ago when the mood was mixed
up in happiness.

The lady was back from her sojourn to warmer places
and suntanned and busty
she arrived at the office in a summer swirl
with the rest of us beaten down with low temperatures
rates hikes and interests climbing over budgets.

The swirl lasted long all winter and regaled
by stories of men with brawn and fat wallets
we listened quietly as the tales
unfolded.
Winter set in when the wallets crumbled
and the interest rates chewed up next holiday.

We worked all winter
for a week in the sunshine of the family.