A winter’s storm in New Jersey brought lots of snow today.
It’s bitter cold, and the wind blows strong, as I try to make my way.
I venture out in battle gear of coat, hat, boot and glove.
The conquer this beast, is the task I take. It’s not one that I love.
I take to arms my shovel and make plan of attack.
Two feet deep, I estimate, with thoughts of pain in my back.
Hours of sweat and toil, take me to the street.
My hands are cold my arms are sore, I no longer feel my feet.
My thoughts begin to wonder, of days past and yet to come.
They put out on Barnegat Bay on my boat, in the swarm summer sun.
Not long will winter have its way, the groundhog told me so.
For six long weeks, I’ll be shut in with no place else to go.
Completing my task, I go inside, to coffee and my wife.
We talk of how we long to be back in the boating life,
We snuggle close and light a fire, then soon we’re making plans.
We’ll sail and swim and eat and drink, while working on our tans.
It’s then we’ll be with family and friends, looking back on winter just past.
We’ll party and drink, laughing loud and hard, in our Marina at last.
