Tag Archives: winter


And we thought we’d get away with it, not having a freezing White Christmas, not needing extra layers of protection. No, Siberia has moved in from the east to send shivers up and down our spines. So while you await pronouncements on more significant matters such as gun control in the US and Britain’s love/hate affair with the EU, I suggest you ponder this baffling question: when will DC Hubbard finally settle down to work on her next novel? If that doesn’t do it for you, consider this ditty from last February’s arctic spell.


 An ill-tempered diva

Comes late to the ball

Making bloody-well-sure

She’s seen by all.

She arrives from Siberia

On Putin’s east wind.

She’s set me ashiver

Right down to my skin.

The Land’s now as frozen

As my ancient computer,

The ground dry and shriveled

Like a seventy-year-old suitor.

The woods are snowless

Their breadth and their length,

Paths lit by sunrays,

Devoid of all strength.

Mummified me,

Sheathed in layer upon layer.

Thank God for Thinsulate.

It’s a real lifesaver.



Filed under Poetry, Seasonal Reflections