Poem: An early March day
Trees budding, swaying, bending,
Leafless branches quivering
Under the prowess of invisible gases.
Hissing, blustering, scowling,
Stealing hats, scarves and umbrellas on their way.
Being swept off our feet without the romance,
The wind dances around with glee.
Wet and shivering in the rain - cold and grey - beating down
Colorful crocuses and daffodils hide their heads.
The bright yellow sun bursts forth,
It is cosy and warm in the rays,
It is truly an early March day.
©MoMoGrOw
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