Moon o’er sun, earth duly eclipsed

Cold, grey and dreary such stupendous waste –

Warm, jovial cuppa joe to chaste the mist,

Rushed labours, projects done in haste.


’Tis winter, oft not seen in these sunny climes

Alas! But where’s that furry white blanket

That makes worth the while such times?

Away we must with spring’s useless bucket.


What to do? How to act?

Sit mulling as at Winterfell?

Remember them with whom you’ve a pact

Keep mum and naught shall tell.


Will it all be worth the wait?

P’raps! At last! Such warmth!

T’was not in vain this blue bait –

Unless a babe it conspires to spew forth.


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