That White Stuff

The wind is getting round to the north east direction,

Time for those weathermen to make the prediction,

All over the country we can expect to see a fall,

Those gritter’s and Snowploughs awaiting the call,

The havoc this white stuff causes when it hits the ground,

As countless people get stuck on journeys bound,

It ceases to amaze me that people forget the warnings,

Dash outside as the snow is falling,

This huge white blanket, maybe nice to see,

Yet with it comes problems and no doubt misery,

The kids are happy as the Schools are all closed

Some build Snowmen using a carrot for a nose,

Out on their sledges they merrily play,

Looks like a scene off a card sent for Christmas day,

It’s snowing and that means winter traditions,

The glut of 4x4s drivers playing out in the conditions

Out on the roads cars being abandoned as conditions get worse,

Suddenly the joy of seeing the white stuff now turns to curse,

People suddenly having to walk for miles on end,

Finally the Public transport services are put on suspend,

Travel advice put out on the Tv and radio repeatedly,

Don’t make a journey unless it is an absolute emergency,

Rescue services cannot cope with the influx of 999 calls,

Typical unprepared Britain when that white stuff falls.

I'm assuming the poem is your work John, or you are very kindly throwing the limelight on another's brainchild.

Long phrases, still managed to keep a rhythm.

Good for you. x