Februaryby Rebecca Hey


Though Winter still asserts his right to reign,
He sways his sceptre now with gentler hand;
Nay, sometimes softens to a zephyr bland
The hurrying blast, which erst along the plain
Drove the skin-piercing sleet and pelting rain
In headlong rage; while, ever and anon,
He draws aside his veil of vapours dun,
That the bright sun may smile on us again.
To-day ‘twould seem (so soft the west wind’s sigh)
That the mild spirit of the infant Spring
Was brooding o’er the spots where hidden lie
Such early flowers as are the first to fling
On earth’s green lap their wreaths of various dye—
Flowers, round whose forms sweet hopes and sweeter memories cling.

please enjoy this poem with country music in this video

Glad to know…
February is marching though…
To a warmer spring show…

thank you

Embroidering every corner for all the springs of futurity

In the blanket of snow,
the sweet melody blows.


In the blanket of melody,
the sweet memories flows.


The wind is chilling,
with needles of rain drops.

The shiny needles of rain, weaves clothes of earth,
into the thin icicles.

To wear the springs, from silken scene,
into the grassy green.

Embroidering every corner, of lifting colour ground, for all the springs of futurity.

by m.y

please enjoy this poem with melody in this videos

thank you

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