I envy bugs and beasties too,
For when their summer’s work is through
They hole right up and start to snore,
And miss this awful griping bore
CALLED WINTER!
I wish in winter I could sleep
Through all-the rain and snow and sleet–
‘Til flowers do bloom and birds do sing,
And miss the season just ‘fore spring
CALLED WINTER!
by Ray Romine Friday, April 7, 1933
