Mr. February

Though you may stand

Inches beneath

Your limber peers

You startle placid

Bystanders

With bully howls and jeers

And while you tug

The daylight hour

Into the twilight blue

We slip and slide

And huff and puff

Against your cheerless hue

And though you boast

The day of hearts

And chocolate-flavored bliss

We do not fall

In love with your

Icy, obnoxious kiss

For what you lack in size

Or flair

You pack in blustered punch

While we peer

Through ice-lace fretwork

And pour hot soup for lunch

© Janet Martin