April 11, 2010
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The high-pitched ringing of the clock
Must surely give you quite a shock
Anyone would be feeling sour
To wake at this ungodly hour
You greet the new day with a grumble
On the stairs you’re bound to stumble
Quickly now, you’re running late
Oh! If the world could only wait
The February sky is gray
No sunshine on this chilly day
Then the hours of slavish toil
No wonder you’re about to boil!
The February day has past
When you hurry home at last
Of course it’s not the least bit fair
To be prickled by such bitter air

Knowing that you’re tired out
Saddened by the cold without
I thought I’d leave this simple rhyme
Straight from my heart, my Valentine

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