When icicles hang from one's nose,
And one lies frozen 'tween the sheets,
And you can never warm your toes,
And snow lies deeply in the streets;
When ice forms solid on windscreens,
Or to start the car you have no means,
Then you receive the garage bill!
A merry note from greasy Will.
When all around is grey and bleak,
And coughing means you've caught pig flu,
And iced up pipes begin to leak,
And for the plumber there's a queue;
When lips are sore, chapped and split
And ev'n gloved hands become frost-bit
And chilblains then inflict your feet!
You live in hope for global heat.
Text (with apologies to Shakespeare) and image © Mirino (PW) December, 2009