The paltry sun smiles across the frozen Plains,
as if to mock my shivering words,
“How long will this winter last”
The trees and shrubs that wooed the summer breeze
with blossoms ablaze,
are smitten under foot,
after boasting they would never die,
now lie still,
fallen emblems of a summer past,
there ghostly voices still echoing,
“How long will this winter last”
The robin feeds oblivious to the frost and cold,
looking only for his meal of worm,
pausing briefly for the wintry wind,
as it screams through the trees
“How long will this winter last”
The frozen brook where well we played
with rod or trunks,
sleeps silent in its glassy grave,
beckoning visitors to cross it fast,
while creaking out
“How long will this winter last”
But with the days, the sun will shift,
its rays to change this silent land,
and see the green of springs return,
to claim its laughter warm and bright,
no more to hear her wintry blast .
“How long will this winter last”