Sonnet

Every morning when I am getting dressed I cross my fingers and peak out the window hoping to see beautiful, white snow covering everything. I don't even demand that much - just an inch or two. Every morning I am sorely disappointed and part the blinds to the same gray and brown ugliness.

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Oh Minnesota,

How I miss thee? Let me count the ways.
I miss thee in July when its too hot,
And when humidity is all we've got.
Oh, how I long for your cool summer days.

If you could only know my hearts dismay,
When in December it just rains a lot
The elegance of snow Ohio knows not
For your soft white blanket my heart doth pray.

Thousands of lakes can cheer me from my grief,
These many rivers are just children's toys.
Palisade head is my sweetest relief,
When flatness here has power to annoy.
Your absence to me is just as a thief,
Stealing that which brings me the greatest joy.


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Hmm. Not sure how that happened. I did not open this empty blog page to write a sonnet, but once I typed that first line, I knew I had to. Not my best work, but it will do pig, it will do.