by cricketjeff on February 8, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
And a trail of brush and footmarks shows the passage of a fox.
There are shining silver baubles on the branches of the tree,
But the winter hasn’t brought you home to me.
There’s a skin of glass hard water on the surface of the pond,
That has captured start and ending of a softly blowing frond.
Still the birds have space for drinking by a bobbing rubber ball
But without you all these frozen beauties pall.
Overhead the Moon is winking through a gap in looming clouds,
At the starlings by the thousands in their whirling swirling crowds.
And the cup of tea I’m holding is my only source of heat
I am sitting here without you on the seat.
Winter gardens full of nature touch the heart in many ways,
With their own undreamt of marvels and the hope of warmer days.
But if I am here without you can the Winter ever part,
Come to me, my distant lover, mend my heart.