If you’re one of those people who LOVE winter time,
And you gnaw on your nails, cold awaiting,
And you sit in your warm house and growl at the clime,
‘Cause it’s mild, and you want to go skating;
If an icicle’s just the most BEAUTIFUL thing,
And the snow’s too poetic to mention,
And you shout about pleasures that zero will bring,
Let me have, for a bit, your attention:
Get you out there–LIVE in it , and see if it’s fun–
No, not a mere walk before beddy–
Or, think when your period of playing is done,
“Could I love this for eight hours steady?”
If you work out-of-doors all twelve months of the year,
In the snow, on the ice, when it’s zero ,
With your lips turning blue, maybe losing an ear–
You still like it? O.K. , BE a hero!
If your winter experience to play is confined,
Or if just from the window you’ve spied it,
I shall say you’re not competent judge–do you mind?
You ‘ re talking to someone who’s tried it!
(OR–Neither’m I–let’s find someone whose tried it!)
by Ray Romine Sunday, January 4, 1942
