The duel twixt sunshine-sweetness and surly storm-cloud begins...
Sun-whisper softly grins
Where winds mutter, blue-cold
And so this tug-of- war begins
Twixt gray and azure-gold
Subtle, its overtures
Of ruby-jeweled limb
Of rivers trickling through the snow
In muted meadow-hymn
The chill of winter-boast
Wavers, sensing the thrill
Of zephyrs tumbling from yon cloud
And rolling down the hill
But then in brutish scowl
He hails his motley fleet
Employing them to spill their worth
On woods and field and street
Across earth’s frigid cusp
His snowy squadrons seethe
But they cannot deter the touch
Of spring nudging beneath
…and soon the blustering
Of shiver-laden jeers
Uncurls its lip; a drop, a drip
And winter disappears
© Janet Martin
