rooftop harmonies

What once was fresh and crisp and white
Is now lumped and grey and dirty.
Winter came with all his glory and awe
But as usual, he just stayed too long
Like the once-novel house guest
Who eventually cleans out your refrigerator,
Along with your wallet and your patience.

Winter, who in November, made his first lovely appearance
And in December, made Christmas magical,
Had the audacity to make January insufferable,
And the brazen nerve to make February unbearable.
To him I say, "That's enough!
It is time to leave our fair home!
Let ol' Punxatawny Phil see no shadow
And be gone, post haste!"

So who ever said poetry has to rhyme? I dunno, maybe this is prose, but I'm not creative enough right now to rhyme everything! I blame that on winter, too... :S