It's March and still those leaden skies
Hide the sunlight from our eyes
Brittle branches, spiky, stark
And winds to chill the stoutest heart.
I look for buds or tiny leaves
But winter’s hanging on and grieves
Much longer than in years gone past
Our coats, well worn, are buttoned fast.
This year perhaps for the first time
All my scarves show signs of grime
As buffeted by snow and sleet
Frayed edges flutter in the street.
Caps, berets, hoods or bobble hats
Capes, woollen coats or padded Macs
All hide pinched faces, tinged with blue
Reflecting what we’re going through.
Remember mittens? Well, they’re back
Some shopkeepers have the knack
Of working indoors woollen clad
As they pack your veggies in a bag.
Spring fashions? No one wants to buy
Easter bonnets – stacked up high
Find no takers - wind’s too strong
A gust and they’d be bowled along -
The dirty street and like as not
Tumble to land in muddy spot.
But to cheer us up in this cold spell
Hot Belgian chocolate does sell well!
(c) Poet in the woods 2015