July Poem of the Month: The Other Way

There is a land, or so I’m told,

Where timber girls ne’er feel the cold,

Where trees come down all sned and peeled,

And there’s no need an axe to wield.

The transport’s never broken down,

And Jill’s go every night to town.

How different here in snow and sleet,

Shivering with wet and frozen feet.

But wait, the sun’s come out at last,

And summer’s here and winter’s past,

The lumberjills work all the day –

Who’d have it round that other way?