Willing Winter Away...

Come on winter, we're weary of your fresh over-flowing bowl of Snowflakes for breakfast! 

Can we have golden, honeyed sunny-ohs, pl-e-e-e-ease?

The hierarchy of winter wanes

But will not seal its boreal gate

It dallies on the hungry lanes

Where barren courts of April wait

…for buds to break wide, starry-eyed

And toll the gong of spring-song tide

For hills to don youth’s vernal hue

For hearts to hope with awe anew

For brooks to babble, ripple, run

Freed from ice-grip by kiss of sun

Where by its silver lilt we sit

To watch worlds waken, wonder-lit

And grace the skin of earth with bloom

Birth wells from Nature’s umbral tomb

It swells the limb with green and gold

Where winter-long it wore white cold

Now each tree, like a troubadour

Laughs, full of poetry once more

As hierarchy of Shiver fell

Prey to the brogue of flower-bell

And yellow-zephyr pirouette

...but winter is not willing yet 

© Janet Martin