How in advancing age we bemoan all the snow and bitter cold
Yet how we enjoy speaking so lovingly of the winters of old
We entertain our patient listeners of frigid ice skating thrills
And talk on incessantly of sledding on frozen snowy hills
We look back so longingly to the winters we thought so great
Being kept inside on a blizzard day would have been a dismal fate
There was no weather that was too savage to deter our childish play
How we'd frolic in the freezing wind on even the most bitter day
But now in our dotage on a chilly day we must sit home by the fire
The weatherman's chilly forecast alarms us with his predictions dire
When it comes to bad weather the gift of retrospect I do not lack
For in truth, for me, the joy in cold weather is in looking back