SunWE, 02/02/04 GROUNDHOG DAY
A groundhog with face furred and pointed,
Who awoke feeling limp and disjointed,
With a lurch did arise
To peer out at the skies
Then returned to his lair disappointed.
He’d carefully scanned hillock and meadow
Searched long but in vain for his shadow.
As wind ripples and rifts
Whipped snow into drifts
He burrowed back down in his bed-o.
Said his goodwife Marmota Monax
“Hold on, while I tell you the facts.
For months you’ve been snoring
I find that so boring
I could snip off your snout with an ax.”
Said he, “Six more weeks of your grumbling,
Your kvetching, and whining and mumbling
Will scrape my nerves raw
As a saber toothed saw.
Now go stuff your head in a dumpling.”
As she scratched at an itch with a thistle
She pondered his penchant to bristle.
“No need to get crabby
You silly old tabby.
Snore on if you must. Just don’t whistle.
When spring came at last–as it will
While the sun warmed each hassock and rill
With a pretty pink bow round her neck
Mrs. Marmot stepped out on the deck
And then gazed all around with a thrill.
Said Herr Groundhog, “Well, what did you see?”
“A blue sky, new leaves on the tree.
Come see the shadows
And the birds in the meadows.”
“I will but, first, please pour some tea.”