Archives For weather

Memories of the blizzard of ninety-three
are permanently stored inside of me.
February was gone, and we thought it was nifty
as we watched the temperature soar beyond fifty.

Daffodils were everywhere
and so were blooms of the Bradford pear.
Gotta plant my garden now was many a man’s dream,
as each one came up with his personal scheme.

Talk of a huge storm came on TV,
and we down south prayed, “Lord, help those Yankees,”
never believing that all of that fuss
had one single thing to do with us.

On March the tenth, Gideons gathered in Macon
for the ninety-three annual state convention.
The Cherry Blossom Festival was due right away,
and the cherry blossoms were ready that day.

A panorama of pink and white
in every direction regaled my eyesight
while pleasant aromas invaded my nostrils,
as sight and smell were completely fulfilled.

March 12 brought a huge clap of thunder,
followed by wind that pushed things asunder
and caused flower petals to billow like snow
as they fell softly to the ground below.

Snow then started to cover the benches,
and did not cease ‘til its depth reached seven inches
and it had affected twenty-six of the states,
killing 318, its power was so great.

Needless to say, countless gardens were killed
and countless gardeners’ hopes unfulfilled
as their tender plants lay wilted and black,
with no hope they could ever come back.

This recounted story should say, “Gardeners, beware.
Conditions today resemble those back there.
Resist that plant it now temptation.
Another frost is almost certain.”
© 2016, cbs

A note to the state of Minnesota –
or it might be to North Dakota –
whichever sent this mass of frigid air.
It is not appreciated –
in fact, is definitely hated –
and you can keep that cold, cold stuff up there.

The pictures we see of you are nice
with those folks skating on the ice
or pulling a big fish through a sawed-out hole.
That kind of stuff is not for us.
We’d rather walk or catch a bus,
and fish from the bank using an old cane pole.

That cold air hurts our arthritis.
It chills the very bones inside us
and we can hardly find enough warm clothes.
We waddle as we try to work,
and many tasks we have to shirk
because of constant wiping of our nose.

As we guard against the dreaded frostbite,
six pairs of socks make our shoes so tight
we wind up rubbing blisters on our corns.
At every place where water drips,
there’s a sheet of ice that might make us slip
and with our big backsides the ground adorn.

We hope you folks can understand,
we’ve lost nothing in Yankeeland
and do not wish to cause you further pain.
But Billy Bob’s got twelve men signed
who say if it happens one more time,
you’d better watch out, the South’s gonna rise again.
© 2015, cbs