It’s cold outside,
My windows – opaque.
Toes – curled up tight.
Hands – beginning to shake.
Amber embers of fire flicker,
I begin to rock.
My breath in the air grows thicker,
There’s a hole in my sock.
The fat black cat returns back,
She always let’s in the cold.
I bolt shut the cat flap.
As she squeezes out the window.
If only I had another pair of socks,
Or a lazy fat black cat.
For now I’m running out of luck.
As the fire’s just blown out by the draught.
The Neon Squid 