WINTER’S LAST FLING

Wait? What?

What snow is this,

That lays today,

Upon my snowy land.

You’ve come to steal my Spring,

You have,

With your blustery frozen hand!

You’ve had your fun,

Bring back my sun,

The birds must sing,

You’ve had your fling,

Your winter’s sting.

Now begone,

White-laced veil,

Let warmth prevail,

Ah-ha! Underneath you,

‘My winter-garden thrives,

Your spring-sprung surprise.

So there, you blustering,

Barren white bear,

Begone!

’Tis your last fling,

’Afore Spring.

Author’s Note: Woke up this morning to a white powdery new, out my picture-window view. The wind was blustering swirls of Spring snow, tossing, drifting, snow all about. Quite the surprise it was, since only yesterday I had been planting new winter crops to get a jump on Spring. Good thing. Good thing I read the weather report, where I get all my news these days. And yep, covered them youngans (plants that is) ‘cause Winter decided to have one more go at it, one last fling, one last winter’s sting. Yep, 33 degrees last night! Sure nuff. I wish those fellers should quit HAARPing around with us😉

Well, I’m gonna lay back my shovel, and don my X-C skis, after the wind quiets down a bit and before it melts away, today. Now where’d I put that winter parka and my gloves, Love?

tom tenbrunsel

Poet Laureate of my Domain