With the daffodile pushing
Up through the cold sod
A dusting of snow flutters down
Which feels odd
Spring’s clearly sprung
Yet Winter appears
To cling on to its spot
With its ensuing fears
Thistledown light forms
Blown here and there
Bubbly and fluffy
Appearing to share
Their pliable floppiness
And buoyancy
Weaving and warping
Coarse grained satiny
Outside my window the dear Rosemary
A bright evergreen with flowers ordinarily
But now with soft snowflakes too
Mimicking flowers
Shuddering sprightly
Each of its towers
Holding together stability
As the wind gathers strength
Where the Celtic ash tree
Tomorrow will be replaced
By the Alder the sky
Is bearing some light
Which is clearly why
The snow isnt heavy
But its fresh and cold
Chattering teeth
Goose pimples unfold
A nip in the air
A blizzard of sorts
A perishing wind
Giving shuddering thoughts
An uncanny silence
A softness of sound
On the road its not settling
But is on the ground, in the gardens
And hedges, a white ermine skin
With its own vividness
Lets us begin
To enjoy the lustre
Of light on the snow
The flames as the daffodils
Yellow does glow
Resplendent its golden horns
Nodding away
And A shimmering spangle
To brighten the day.