SPRING IS LATE THIS YEAR
Where are you sweet, gentle maiden we know as Spring?
There is no sign of you, no burst of colour, no warm fling,
Just more of madam Winter who seems to reign supreme
And is strong and very unwilling to give up her dream,
Which seems to be like Narnia to have winter all year round
Please sweet, gentle Spring when will signs of you be found.
You need to come with strength to melt away all the snow
With a warming sun and blessed zephyrs over all to blow,
Come and help the ground awake, snow buried right now,
So the lofty trees show buds on every stark naked bough,
The pine oozes with it’s lifeblood so news sprigs are there
And the sound of twitterpated birds fill the morning air.
No snowdrops grace the ground, no green grass is seen,
Just mountains of snow wearing her winter silver sheen,
The three lilac bushes in our garden look dead as can be,
When will they bloom and blossom, it’s great beauty see?
When will be it safe to walk with no more treacherous ice,
Will you not come or tell me how to wait, give me advice.
For my heart longs to embrace you like a long lost lover
Who has gone to far away, too long, oh, will that love recover?
Or will when you come the wait will have been much too long,
Will it be too late for birds to build, sing their welcome song?
Parting makes t he heart grow fonder so dearest gentle Spring,
I will still love you when I hear the birds their welcome sing.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 22 March 2006