The Death of Winter

The cold has fled this place, and wrapped in light The world is once again so warm and bright. The sky is blue and shattered are the walls That kept the sun outside those wintry halls. The winter’s fled, and with her’s fled the ice, Replaced with summer’s sun, so warm and nice. Is this what people call a lovely day? Is it their hope that summer’s here to stay? The winter’s ended, and a mighty roar Has sounded through the fields and over moor, Yes, through the valleys and the wood as well. The summer has arrived upon the dell. The frost is over, gone now is the snow, Once frozen rivers mightily now flow, And beavers work to gnaw their way through logs To turn these riverbeds then into bogs. The dams they build, so perfect in their place, Should still the flowing water in its race. They calm what winter, in her death, made wild, That rushing stream now gentle, soft, and mild. Though once were white, the woods now glow with green, The lakes are filled with swans that swim and preen; Too soon the winter shall return, in time, But now the woods are filled with grace and rhyme. The birds return back home, and build their nests While hibernating bears wake from their rests. The stillness that the winter brought, so rife, Is gone, as with the spring, all’s back to life