A glimmer of spring recedes,
as winter rebounds towards furor
Sending off the cheerful malarkey
To be draped with an abstemious simmer
The rooftops bearing with tarmac
Become throttled with frosty garments
With bars made of ice, and walls made of snow
My sights claustrophobic and glacially narrow
And in the blink of an eye you'll hear my voice gripe
Muttering nonsensical adjectives of indolent tripe
But to be perfectly frank, this is good Canadian weather
The prelude of sallow lawns
Is disrupted by the Siberian sawn
Waylaying afterglows for lost summers
For rosy cheeks purchased from arctic dowers
I've traded my Hikers for Mukluks
Annoyed by the downgrade of gear
To shovel hours away, to keep contents at bay
Hunching over my back to find a parchment of clay
That will deliver the spark, to enthusiasms drought
Emancipating my spirits which are the size of a mouse
Though to be absolutely blunt this is good Canadian weather
To savour Februarys warmth
Shun caution towards Marches girth
For the balmy thrills of cupid
Coif unpleasant gifts from the ides
Never celebrate a battle in session
When the odds are constantly threatened
And Mother Nature's deck is blurring
She'll call the house down on top of your jeering
Condemning us to return to hibernation
And the chronicles of repeated complaining
So in absolute fact, to the vault in my heart
All of this muddle, is good Canadian weather