I was walking to the bank the other day when I was struck simultaneously by a gust of icy wind and a poem at the same time! It was as though the winter gust brought with it an etheric USB drive and plugged it straight into my brain. Directly in the right temple, believe it or not. I present to you now the unaltered frosty wind poem: Old Jack Frost. *Updates - 1/16/14
Old Jack Frost
There lives a giant in the North,
Sleeps three seasons, wakes the fourth,
On Winter's wings he'll sally forth,
His name is Old Jack Frost.
Beware the ice, beware the snow,
As frigid winds begin to blow,
You'll find there's nowhere you can go
To hide from old Jack Frost.
He comes while you lie safe in bed,
When sun is set and trees are dead,
To steal the heat right from your head,
That wicked old Jack Frost.
So don your coat, your scarf, your gloves,
Surround the hearth with those you love,
Raise voices to the sky above,
"Down with old Jack Frost!"
Spiteful once he knows he's crossed,
He'll take his toll, we'll count the cost,
And mourn the lives of those we've lost,
To dreadful old Jack Frost.
He's come before he'll come again,
To take the lives of lesser men,
But soon the Spring will come and then
Goodbye to old Jack Frost.