Winter- A Melancholic Perspect

When the days are short

And the nights are long,

When the darkness falls

And the lights are gone,

When the window panes

Are hued with fog,

When the moon is hid

And the wind is on,

When the fairy tales

Are leaving trails,

When the shades of blue

Make snowmen frown,

When the trees get shed

Against the morning’s white,

When the birds wait sadly

For the stormy night,

When the poet cries

With happy delight,

When the world gets still

And Shakespeare cites,

“When the daisies pied

And the violets blue,

When the cuckoo buds

Of silver hue,

When the lady smocks

All silver white,

When the artist paints

A blue all sight.”

When the fireplace

Gets hot all night-

Yet can’t warm eyes

From the wintry might,

When the winds go mad

And the homeless sad,

In rags, like ghosts

They roam snow-clad…

Then…

Then, one fine morning…

The sky goes azure,

The snowmen melting,

The water flowing pure,

Then the kids go happy,

The farmers gay,

The trees getting lively,

With leaves do sway,

Then the sun gets brighter

And the birds do chirp,

Happy with life

And the spread all mirth,

Then the fireplace rests

In abandoned way

But …

But, poets like ME with sadness say,

“Now soon again be summer gone,

When the winds will return

And the cold would me on!

When the world would be still

With gloom all around.

We’ll sadly singing again this song.”