I'm not a big poetry person, but when I saw this one at work I knew it was perfect.
Winter
It's winter in Iowa
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At thirty-five below.
Oh, how I love Iowa
When the snow's up to your butt
Your take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around
I could never leave Iowa
I'm frozen to the ground!
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