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Brass Monkey Weather

One of those bright mornings after
An unexpected very hard freeze,
Thoughts of bemused mongrel
Dogs cocked legged frozen to trees
While families of brass monkeys
 Daren't let the father out
In case parts of his appendages
Be abruptly scattered about.

I pulled aside the duvet
To stick out a few toes:
So horribly  cold it's quite possible
That Hell might have froze.
I pulled back my toes
Wriggled luxuriously in bed
Pulled up the covers
Covering all but my head.

I pulled out my book
Read page after page
One of the advantages
Of being of pension age.
Oh I remember Winter market work
Climbing out of barely warm cars
Walton Street December Wednesday
Hands  freezing on steel stall bars.

Working to a deadline to be
All flashed up by eight o'clock
A Hatty's Pantry Bacon butty
In hand as I survey my stock.
Waiting for the punters,
The banter and the craic
Warm pleasant memories
Slowly flowing back.

Oh how I loved the markets
Every moment I spent there
In my fond memories
So free of any care.
There seemed to be a camaraderie,
A spirit of all being in it together,
Which made it all so pleasing in spite
 Of each Winter's brass monkey weather.









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Brass Monkey Weather