Cold Days, Warm Memories

Confined to my room

For months on end

Watching the news on CNN

 

The winter’s not good

for a woman of ninety

I could slip on the ice

or get frostbitten heinie

 

I dream of the days

when me and my beau

Would walk to the park

Where we loved to go

 

A couple of sandwiches

Maybe some wine

Was better than any

Fancy place one might dine

 

Oh how I wish I was

At that park now

In the arms of my love

With the sun shining down

 

But, alas, my only warmth

Is from my space heater

And the hot air from

The Chief Executive Tweeter