I don’t adore Thor. He’s a bore, and what’s more
I deplore the sight of his might dressed in white.
No delight do I know from this snow. It can go
back to where I won’t care if it dares to ensnare
with its not very nice slice of hard, frosty ice.
You’re a chore, Mr. Thor. Take your roar out the door!
© Susan Schoeffield
Another poem written for the 3/1/15 post at the Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild to write a rhyming poem on any topic in any form. If the weather forecasters are right and the next named winter storm pays us a visit, I’m ready for him.