When bells don’t chime

And, words don’t rhyme,

When warmth’s not part

Of your daily clime,

When winter loves you

To your core

And, howling winds

Hit your shore,

When glowing hearths

Are dying embers,

The mind a blank

That nothing remembers,

When all you think

Is of the past,

And hope this winter’s

Not the last,

When Spring Eternal

Are empty words,

The trees all bare

Migratory the birds,

Where do you go

What do you do,

When fires lie still

And, you have no clue.

When Winter wraps its arms thus

Around you, with no apparent fuss

And, minuses are all you ever see

No signs of that which we call plus,

When trembling lips

And accompanying sighs,

The Sun goes missing

And dark the skies,

That’s when you feel

The weight of age,

The book of Life a ton

Too heavy the page,

The lines a blur

The sight a cur,

What if you can’t

Afford the fur,

Winter, does no favours shower

No mercies show to those in the bower,

The biting cold does eat into

Each petal of the- once- pretty flower.

Is it cruel or is it not?

Was it nicer when it was hot?

Blemished are we, all and sundry

Blemish to another, ascribe not.

Note :All material in this product is the intellectual property of Ashok Sawhny and cannot be used in any way without the written

permission of the author Ashok Sawhny. Having said that, the author is always open to proposals and can be contacted

via www.ashoksawhny.com