Day she dawns a distant blue
mixes with the lamp
becomes a purple hue
this days water colour
bathes itself in early year
not perfumed washes
only that of musk-like scented snow
its face is open wide from hill to hill
stretched out across the sky
to fit our village lying still
this february morning
this february dim
as mist dissipates
and sunday is led in

Margaret Ann Waddicor 21st February 2016