Eulogize the snowman
In poem, song and story;
Give me a leering scarecrow,
So summer’s in its glory.
As for this pristine whiteness
That covers manse and hovel,
I’ll take the dust of summer
You do not have to shovel.
Who likes his contrasts glaring
May have his black and white scene;
But paint, I ask, my landscapes
In all the shades of bright green.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, December 19, 1950
