Winter in Michigan

>And the gentle breezes blow,

>Seventy miles an hour,

>at twenty five below.

>Oh, how I love Michigan

>When the snow's up to your butt.

>You take a breath of winter

>and your nose freezes shut.

>Yes, the weather here is wonderful

>So I guess I'll hang around.

>I could never leave Michigan

>Cause I'm frozen to the ground

But we still support the Huskers. Go HUSKERS

steveormary

Southern Comfort
by Frank Young

The sun’s inept
And frost has crept
Deep in our earthen soul
The woodstove glows
As does our nose
And the groundhog’s in his hole

New snow creaks
And copper leaks
Where ice has grown within
Nose prints stain
On frosted pane
That separates out from in

Winter’s length
Has sapped our strength
And only makes us wish again
Ancestors past
Had settled last
Somewhere south of Michigan

Where cotton blooms
And mossy looms
Are draped over massive Oaks
And the sun paints warm
The human form
With gentle glowing strokes

We have reached the Land of drouth and heat
Where nothing grows for us to eat
For winds that blow with [scorching heat?]
Nebraska land is hard to beat.

Chorus:

O Nebraska Land'. Sweet Nebraska Land
While on her burning soil Island,
I look away across the Plains
And wonder why it never rains
T'll Gabriel doth his trumpet sound
They'll say the rain has passed around.
The farmer goes out in his corn--
He stands around and looks forlorn
It gives him such a shock
To see withered shoots but not a stalk. Chorus:

We have no wheat, we have no oats
We have no corn to feed our shoats
Our chickens are too poor to eat
Our pigs go squealing through the streets Chorus:

Our horses are of a bronco race--
Starvation stares them in the face--
We do not live, we only stay-- we are too poor to get away. by Mr. A. R. Adamson, Written in 1895 and sung to the tune of Beulah Land.

George Ball