Tuesday, March 25, 2014
It's hard to think of Spring, when we are waist deep in snow.
When in blue blazes is this stuff going to go.?
The Robins have come home, and wonder why they did.
Everything they like to eat is buried and is hid.
The bulbs are straining at the earth and can not make it shift.
That's because it's buried underneath a bloody six foot drift.
They say that it is Springtime according to the date.
But I am here to tell you that Spring is bloody late.
I am sick of dirty piles, of often soggy snow.
It's piled so high that it has nowhere else to go.
Oh to see a blade of lovely green grass,
I am sick to death of white and of slipping on my arse.
Excuse my poem for being rude it's due to cabin fever.
Old man Winter this year has been quite the dang deceiver.
The sun comes out and begins the melt
A promice of Spring that seems heartfelt.
Next time I look it's snowing and after that it's rain.
So next it's ice and freezing wind that freezes up the drain.
The roads are all flooded next time we get a thaw,
The snow comes back and settles half way up my door.
Will it end soon, I really do not know
but I am here to tell you I am sick of bleedin snow.
©Janice Schaub March 2014
Monday, March 10, 2014
The first brave buds slip through the snow
little white flowers the first to grow.
Small they are but sturdy stocks,
little bells like fairy frocks.
Cold and brisk, but sunny day.
Birds in branches noisily play.
Snow is melting, time for Spring.
A sight to make the birds all sing.
Crocus show their pretty heads,
Pushing up in garden beds.
Soon the blossoms will appear,
Then its Springtime that is clear.
Birds are nesting, raising young.
Yes for sure the Spring is sprung.
Friday, March 7, 2014
The end of March will soon be gone
and April enters with bird song.
First day of Spring, in the grip of Winter still
I'm looking out the window, the birds still feel the chill.
Huddled by the feeders, their feathers all are fluffed.
They stay in my grapevines until they are all stuffed.
It's time to build their nests, time to raise some young.
But they really can not do that until the Spring has come.
Come on old man Winter its time for you to go.
Wev'e had enough of Winter and sick to death of snow.
©Janice Schaub 2013
Frieda's cat lays by the door
Slitted eye and folded paw.
Content in sunbeam.......the world goes by
Not really sleeping she is ever so sly.
Birds and squirrels go on their way
Beware other cats in her territory stray.
Squirrels gather nuts in May
They visit my feeders every day.
Agile climbers, acrobat
Runs up the tree to watch the cat.
Cat stretches out her deadly paw
and yawns real wide then sharpens claw.
She limbers up but lays back down,
turns her back and casts a frown.
Squirrel thinks he's safe for now
so goes back up to get more chow.
Cat can get her food at home
so the squirrels and birds are safe to roam.
At least today old cat don't care
so make the most, this time is rare.
Sleeping in sunbeams ........dozing in the sun
She can't be bothered to get up and run.
The birds are happy for this reprieve
The squirrel sighs and is much relieved.
Everyone can sigh a sigh of relief
Even if its ever so brief.
While Frieda's cat lays by the door
With slitted eye and folded paw.
©Janice Kay Schaub 2011