The night was old
The snow was cold
But none fell in Oxford
We waited one day
Then two
Then three
But none fell in Oxford
Children went to sleep
With the hope that in the morn they’re locked in by a heap
But none fell in oxford
Then on day Four it fell to the floor
More by more
With a glisten here
A sparkle there
Oxford had been made a beautiful sight
On my venture out a ball hits me with might
To which I smile and think of the cheer
That comes barely once a year
By the end of the day it had melted away
The only reminder being a carrot coal and a scarf on the lawn.
by David Finn, Oxford Fudge Kitchen
