Tis the morning with a layer of slip,
A layer of slide and all so much glide,
Tis the morning where we stay inside,
Admiring the crystals that have blessed us with rest,
The city is shut down,
And all through the town,
Spirits' are lifted with donuts in hand,
All say bless this land,
And thank you, for everlasting hope in mankind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it must be Norfolk, Virginia..hehehheheheh first sign of snow city is shut down.