We kicked some niches into the ice-snow-covered shrubs...it didn't take long for the birdies to find them!
Galvanized talons, raw, reckless unleash
Passion of snowflake to shiv’ring shrub-niche
Burrow, wee birdie, into cedar-tress
Pray, Mother Nature for spring-sweet caress
Down, from deep dregs of ice-crypts in the sky
Frenzy of flurry scatters far and wide
We, meek earth creature-lings bear its bleak blast
Knowing eventually it will be past
But the conductor of this stalwart choir
Waves his baton and shouts ‘higher, higher’
Strike silver timbrel and rouse bully-bow
Ring out the anthems of winter and snow
Over the landscape its melody streaks
Frosting eye-lashes lashes and nipping our cheeks
Where is the music of warm wave and sun?
Ah, it must wait until this song is done
© Janet Martin
Faces are frosted in mere minutes!