Out Blooms the Birds.

Look winter! Gaze at the blanket of 

white which covers your ground,

God's earth is a bride at her wedding,
dressed in white all around.

Sister spring is anon coming
and will take me by the hand.

No more shadows of cold
or snowy dreams that won't end.

Flowers will bloom and
desire to be named,

Birds will sing love songs
and resist to be tamed.

One thing I've heard, and
have embarked to conceive:

Why winter comes every year
and yet doesn't remember me.