This winter's day, I write to say, was time to go outside
to look around, and what I found, neglect was far and wide.
It's been too cold, this icy hold, has kept me in instead
while wind has blown, no love I've shown, to my poor garden bed.

So I did toil, and turned the soil, for sins I must repay
my pruning shears, old growth it clears, dead branches chopped away.
My fingers green, in mud was seen, as I pulled out the weeds
the start of spring, will surely bring, some brand new planted seeds.

The sun will glow, to help them grow, new shoots will then peek through
their blooms appear, when spring is here, as garden beds renew.
With colours grand, across the land, brings feelings of success
and grass that's grown, will then be mown, all part of springs process.

From winters blues, we'll see the hues, so pleasing to the eye
the blossom sprig, and wattle's twig, lets perfume waft on by.
I'll breathe it in, you'll see me grin, I'll give a little skip
my heart will sing, when it is spring, and winter loses grip.

I've made a start, but must depart, back to my warming fire
I feel the chill, also a thrill, that gardening does inspire.
Can hardly wait, it will be great, to feel the sun's warm rays
upon this earth, then see rebirth, that come with season's change.

Christine