Ordinarily, the weather
considered non trees
son us, a neutral subject on par
with non nose wrinkling odoriferous cheese
usually ranks as minor distraction,
without whether yours truly agrees

or not, except
during balmy temperatures,
an unavoidable tease,
whereat sub zero degrees,
whether Centigrade or Fahrenheit
demands human sacrifice

(me anima knocking knees),
no negotiating with Ole Man Winter,
he requests (lest
he continue deep freeze
maelstrom until the end of time),
nothing 'cept a healthy seas

sunned **** sapien to appease
his insatiable appetite
froze to the core,
when all body functions cease,
thus until onset of frostbite disease
transformed me into a human popsicle

obliging surrender of self,
no matter I always minded "p's"
and "q's", and adhered
to selfless decrees
not until that moment - this me's
lee sad excuse e'en for missing link,

said personal radar of this primate
suddenly went haywire madly wheeze
zing, as if giant hand (some
harried styled swiftly tailored
paw) did squeeze
traumatizing, suffocating, mangling

constricting, asphyxiating... sensation
(surprised muss elf, and all my enemies,
hence survived death as a breeze)
when similar to Socrates
ill fate found him downing hemlock,

necessitated, I reluctantly quaff antifreeze
as preservative, plus out of necessity to survive
being clobbered, buffeted,
assaulted...finally please
zing lee melting titanic iceberg
more bearable on par with a sneeze
than compared to frigidity of writer's block!