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WINTER’S TALE


Because it was win­ter, the snowflakes were glad.
With six legs apiece, they all danced.
They sparkled and swirled and cavorted like mad
as the mur­der­ous spring­time advanced,

and glac­i­ers were melt­ing, but healed when they froze,
and branches were dream­ing of bloom­ing,

and bears were enjoy­ing a win­ter­time doze,
and plants were for now unas­sum­ing,

when out of the dark, as the sun spewed its glare,
there were songs that nobody had writ­ten,
and some­body heard a young mother declare
that her daugh­ter had lost her left mitten.

(orig­i­nally pub­lished in The Spec­ta­tor as a win­ner of com­pe­ti­tion call­ing for non­sense poems about winter)