Amuse: December Cold, The Hill, and Two Foxes

December Cold

Once upon a cold night,
Trees knew little peace
When a strong wind swept by,
Slippery was the grassy pathways
Leading to the small village
But many won’t risk it outside
For the wind was growing to a storm
“What do you make of this cold?”
A grey-furred rabbit broke the silence
His comrades won’t have much time
To discuss a freezing matter, which they think
Concerned only the stupid government
“Argh! Is it always freezing in December?”
A pine tree called to his friends
“I wonder too; I always get weak
And sleep illness when it’s freezing.”
Another pine said, yawning slyly

The Hill

By the corner, some few miles away, stood a hill
Which the simple villagers revere
It was confessed that all cold and wind
Came from the foot of the hill
And so the villagers admired it,
If they had a hot and cheerless day
It will be that someone angered it:
Either a piss on the trees by the hillside
Or some kids threw stones uphill!
It must be something to do with it
Well, that’s a village and its beliefs
And who am I to deny people’s believes?

Two Foxes

Two foxes stroll in search of a mill
What a long day it must be for them,
Sleeping in the shadows of tree roots
Dreaming of summer when it’s just winter coming