February's Kiss Poem by Richard D Remler

.....



Quiet is this wicked cold
That shares no wintry design.
Bitter, empty, vile, old,
And sour as a fools wine.
It sings no melancholy song,
It shows no overdue concern.
It tosses nothing to the wind,
And asks for nothing in return.
And in the gray and dark and deep
The barren land bides the time,
A time when hopes and dreams
And wants gently tap against the mind.
A time when spring will softly sing
Her melody into the breeze,
And warm that heart of cold
And breathe life back
Into these Walnut trees.


Copyright © MMXIIII Richard D. Remler