The winter wind tugged at my skirt
and whisked it round my ears,
the men upon the building site
let out resounding cheers,
I soldiered on in high-heeled boots
that gave an air of grace
but slithered on a sheet of ice
and landed on my face.
Undaunted by such awful luck
I phoned my waiting date.
I told him that my posh heeled boots
were stuck within the grate.
I sat forlorn upon the ground
and frowned at such a muddle
and then a double decker passed
and splashed me with a puddle.
Bedraggled, wet and freezing cold
I cursed the winter weather
until a handsome copper stopped
and made me feel much better.
He took his jacket off his back
and wrapped it round my shoulders
ďItís alright luv, letís help you upí
My heart began to smoulder.
Three score years and ten have duly passed
since we were brought together
and such a union came about
because of awful weather.
So wrap up well and soldier on,
take heart at what I say,
because Cupid might fire his bow,
upon a Winterís day.