A Wisconsin Poem
It's winter in Wisconsin,
and the gentle breezes blow.
Seventy miles an hour
at thirty-five below.
Oh how I love Wisconsin,
when the snows up to your butt.
You take a breath of winter air
and your nose freezes shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I will hang around.
I could never leave Wisconsin,
'Cause I'm frozen to the ground.
Anonymous Poet
Last edited by Raeja; 12-13-2018 at 07:39 AM.
Connect With Us