People of old, before high tech, used to gaze up at the sky
And read the portents written there, way, way, way up high.
I went out one day last month and stood and sniffed the air,
Saying 'That's a very cold, windy sky that I see up there!'
And, sure enough, the very next day the wind began to blow,
And the air was thin and icy as though it were going to snow!
Of course, it never snows here, but it does up in the hills
And then we feel the aftermath which is bleak and full of chills.
So maybe I'm a mystic, whose words are always truth!
I'll curl up by the fire, I think, and practice saying sooth!
More sky-magic here: