Walkies in January
Walkies in January
Second week in January, twenty twenty-five
It’s like the blooming Arctic, how do the birds survive?
They’re tweeting in the bushes as we pass along the drive
They sing their little hearts out, “Yey! We’re still alive!”
We walk across the golf course, all crunchy, hard and white
Each blade of grass has been adorned and glistens in the light
It’s a winter wonderland, Jack Frost visited last night
My toes are numb, I realise, my wellies are too tight!
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