We, of the Celtic race <br />Are well used to feeling <br />The bite of frostwind - <br />Reminding us that Calvin is not dead. <br /> <br />Reminding us <br />That our pleasures <br />Must be hard-won. <br />That our summers, <br />Metaphorical, and otherwise, <br />May be wedged-out by splinters <br />Of gale. <br /> <br />The frostwind catches us <br />In love, and hate, <br />Fleecing-away the <br />Tranquil effect <br />Of the fly-by-day sun; <br />Bringing the world <br />Back to earth, <br />Giving a broad hint <br />To philosophers, and dreamers, <br />That the milk of human kindness <br />May now arrive frozen <br />In it's containers.<br /><br />Robert Wylie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/frostwind/
