I sit looking out;
it is very cold,
I will stay inside,
where heat is worth its gold.
The sky is a pretty blue,
and in their shelter,
the birds abide,
burrrrrrrrrr, its cold outside.
The snow lies deep on the ground,
no signs of spring are found;
I must stay calm,
and patiently wait,
until there are fiddle heads,
on my plate.
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