At the Winter Warming jam session on Sunday, local writer Art Haley shared with us a few of his poems. He gave me some of his creations. I thought I would share this one with you, our readers.

When I open my eyes,
What a wonderful surprise;
I was as white as winter snow.
My mother was pleased,
But Dad he was seized,
With a bout of vertigo.

My brothers and sisters,
Were brown to their whiskers,
And thought that I was a freak.
Little did they know,
That come February I'd show,
I had knowledge the world would seek. ...

I came by this knowledge,
No, not from a college,
But by being in the right place;
For this Wiarton town,
North of Owen Sound,
Is truely my home, my birthplace.

That very first year,
I had little fear,
That I could predict spring.
So I gave it my best shot,
And was right on the dot,
With the news that I had to bring.

The Mayor soon learned,
If my favors they yearned,
To speak groundhogese real well,
Dressed all in white,
They sure are a sight,
As they listen to what I foretell.

They had a great party,
Laughed long and hearty,
Every year I awoke from my nap.
It got bigger and better,
I even got letters,
I sure put this town on the map.

Some winters are cold,
So I have been told,
With plenty of ice and snow;
But I sleep real sound
Away down underground
And dream of that February show.

My alarm clock is set,
For February two you bet;
I stretch then I give a big yawn,
Time to come out,
And hear the crowds shout,
As I give my prediction at dawn.

It's a real thrill for me,
And a pleasure to see,
Many clouds masking the sun;
It means spring is near,
No shawdow to fear,
I know my napping is done.

I'm now carved in stone,
With the park as my home;
I'm the biggest groundhog you'll ever see.
So come out someday,
And gaze in dismay,
At this well polished image of me.

I've had forty years of respect,
Many more I'll expect,
From the coming generations.
I'll try my best,
After each winter's rest,
To live up to your expectations.