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As I sit among the
willows,
And I feel the wind that billows,
I will wrap my scarf around my neck and face,
Still I shiver and I shudder,
When I try to talk, I stutter,
And against the freezing breeze I try to brace.
It was pleasant in
September,
But it's freezing in December,
And I long to see the days of April's spring,
For around the bend is summer,
But this winter is a bummer,
And again to scarf and parka I do cling.
How I wish I lived
'Down Under',
Where the worst there is, is thunder,
And the rain is warm and soft upon my head,
In September and December,
Pleasant days I will remember,
No more winter fury will I ever dread.
But up north is
where I wander,
Summer days I never squander,
Very soon the cold of winter will return,
When I clutch my scarf and parka,
In those days so short and dark, a
Time when summer is the thing for which I yearn.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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