Through the winter snow

Back now after a few days in Hertfordshire - home journey much inhibited by the snow, which seems an apt time to remember this -


I was walking in the snow one winter’s day –
They’d not put down the salt, it was slippery I thought,
And icicles from windows made display –
I was walking, as I say, in a very careful way -
When my hat flew off my head
In a way - it must be said -
In a peculiar, extraordinary way.
It parted from my hair
And flew up in the air
And landed in a gutter, I declare.
I turned around to see
A small boy behind me
On his face an expression wholly blank.
I said “now let’s be frank
Did you throw a ball of snow
At my hat – It must be so –
For I really do not know
How else my trilby hat
Could have shot off just like that
In that totally extraordinary way.”
He said “‘Guv would I do that
To your beautiful new ‘at
With a feather stuck together in it’s brim?”–
But his gloves were white with snow
And I knew it must be so
That little guy was full of porky pies –
And so on a sudden whim I turned, grabbed hold of him
And threw him in a dustbin with a will –
Then I went off through the snow – with a festive ho ho ho
And for all I know he’s fester-ring there still!