“Oh, do leave the snowdrop there, put it by my bedside table.”
The snow though piles against the walls
Do you feel cocooned or trapped

Dreaming, moving from room to room
Looking for lost children
Waking to find the snowdrift of our bed

Easels on the sand, watery smears of blue and green
Prussian and Cobalt Blue, Viridian and Terre Verte
Skies indistinguished from Seas below

Sitting beneath a big Beech tree in wicker chairs
Flimsy, floaty dress and big straw hat
I tilt it up, and kiss you softly on the cheek

The peppery sweet perfume of Pinks
The heady smell of new mown grass
The mower cuts its swathe

A long hot summer beckons
Barefoot in the grass
Lost in love those Winter thoughts