TALE FROM THE NORTH COUNTRY
(Something to mark the seasonal weather we're having. A poem I wrote - a true story - a few years ago. The saying is also genuine.)
As we crunched through snow together
In inclement Arctic weather,
I thought I’d bring to mind an Old Icelandic song;
There’s a saga of the Viking
That you need to heed when hiking
That “Pissing in His Boots -
Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.
In Nordic runes it’s written
That if your foot’s frost-bitten
Don’t fumble with your flaps to free your frozen prong;
Whilst the warmth of urine might
Afford a transient respite
“Pissing in His Boots –
Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.
Now already you’ll be gleaning
There’s a second, deeper, meaning
That short-term exigencies always turn out wrong;
As a simple rule of thumb
They will stab you up the bum
Cos “Pissing in His Boots -
Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.
If you fail to grasp the nettle
Of Hard Choices but you settle
For the easy way, you’ll find you’ll just prolong
The pain of future heartache
In which you’re doomed to partake,
Cos “Pissing in His Boots –
Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.
My friend thanked me profusely,
Retorting quite obtusely,
Adding that there’s more that he thought we ought to know;
That if your thirst needs slaking,
A big mistake you’re making’s
To try to quench your thirst -
By eating yellow snow.
John Coopey
Sat 14th Jan 2017 23:43
Thanks, MC. I was trying to replicate the deadpan tone of the narrator in Noggin the Nog.