The lady’s mood was known to oscillate season to season.
One month she was crazy and the next given to reason.
Winter, in particular, seemed to fray her nerves,
when no truffles were available to top off her hors d’ oeuvres.
She saw inclement weather as a personal rebuff.
She simply abhorred snowflakes—their frigidity and fluff.
She wrote a letter to the mayor, for she knew it was a fact
there was a ban on nasty weather that he could enact.
The letter that she wrote him finally reached him in December,
but in the rush of Christmas, he neglected to remember
that she had made demands until the New Year celebration
was over, whereupon he said he’d take a small vacation
to try to conduct research in a sunnier location—
perhaps a South American or Carribean nation—
to see just how they managed to defray this colder weather.
Then he’d fly off to another just to further study whether
just what, if anything, there might be to be done
to do away with winter and attract more sun.
His efforts were so thorough that , booking after booking,
when he didn’t find an answer, he had to go on looking.
From Belize to Barbados, Aruba to St. Kitt,
the solution kept evading him, yet he sought after it.
Then, finally, in June, the lady got her wishes.
No snowflakes on her shoulders and truffles for her dishes.
For when the mayor came back from his research in milder lands,
He brought the sun back with him, thus meeting her demands.