I Thought this was Minnesnowta

Rain, rain go away,
Come again another day.

We should be knee deep
In that precious white snow,
But the grass is now greening,
I may have to mow.

Last week we were teased
with those falling wind-chills,
I turned on the furnace
while dreading the heat bills.

But it gave me real hope
that the precip would stay,
And whiten the landscape
and brighten our day.

But instead we are faced
With a fate more absurd,
Our lawns are all naked,
(So we send out a plea,
Send what you can, but)
Down-filled blankets are preferred.

And paint them up white,
So the geese will all know,
That it’s time to head south,
And poop on some other plateau.

Now to guard my dignity
While bringing an end to this,
I’ll save face by signing it,
They call him anonymous.