The Weather and I Are Soggy

When rain came puddling round my shoes
And wet my socks and wet my toes
I said I should rather choose
A weather sort that nipped my nose

And so when next came dribbling sleet
I went outside, polite, to meet—
But found that sleet, too, wet my feet
With an unpleasant, icy sheet

When soon enough came pelting hail
I found my umbrella woeful frail
And—driven forth before the gale—
Slipped, tripped and skidded without fail

The fog, I found, was no respite
For, rolling in by cloudy night,
It made the mornings dull and white
And chilled my toes to near frostbite

And then—at last!—there came the snow
Quietly, as these things go,
Muffling every bend and blow
Flakes fat and drifting, peaceful, slow.
I raced outside to jump and dance
And fling big clumps at passersby—
But woe! By barest, rudest chance
I stepped into a drift too high—
Perhaps you guess what happened then:

My feet were chilled

           my boots were soaked

                       …and my poor toes were wet--again!