JOYS OF WINTER:

“To chase away the winter blues”- we always tend to say,

“Never mind, spring will soon be here”- we too tend to say,

STOP! We are here & it is now & winter is what we really need,

To rest, reflect & for nature, to renew & help the growing seed.

With icy winds playfully tugging at tucked in & wrapped up tails,

And grey clouds scudding like battle ships willful winsome sails,

As we go crunching through ice, snow & frosty frilly icicled morn,

We have nothing for the poor old winter, but our bitter icy scorn.

The joys, what about the jolly joys of warm chunky jackets & coats?

Of the jeweled coloured shawls & scarves wrapping hidden throats?

Wooly hats & mysterious hoods pulled down over eyes, low & warm,

Toasty hands & fingers in mitts, muffs & gloves, hidden & withdrawn.

The roaring fires toasting chestnuts, marshmallows & cheery little toes,

While dark outside, the teasing howling wind taunts & laughingly blows,

The scrunching & the crunching of our playful & joyful snowy winter steps,

Whilst magical fireside stories reach into our warm & secret inner depths.

Through the forests & fields, winter gently, coldly & whitely rumbles & rolls,

Tripping quietly, trying not to awaken the quiet, still & hibernating little souls,

Painting chilly children’s cheeks with a palette of pretty cold & rosy soft petals,

Soft flakes floating & drifting, falling & in the end, finally & meltingly settles.

Hot crumpets & toast, dripping with honey & soft melted salty butter,

Hot chocolate with creamy top & marshmallows melting with a flutter,

Hot, soup, hot hands, hot heart, everything toasty & everything sizzles,

Hot inside, while outside all is iced, all is cold & it continually drizzles.

Winter is not the misconstrued time of slow sighing & mournful dying,

But a time of joyful sleep & a deep restful dormant & quiet low-lying,

Awaiting the bugle call of life´s voice, of renewal & of brand new birth,

To raise the head of youthful spring from the fecund & fruitful earth.