Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?

Pay attention to the chill,
the chill is the most shivering fear of all.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the chill,
Gently it goes - the chill, the trembling, the unsteady.

A thawing, however hard it tries,
Will always be Melting.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?

The big winter sings like a Sun is directly above the Tropic of Capricorn
Now cosmic is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the winter is mature.

wooly glaciers sings like Iceburgs
"Rushing water", said the glaciers,
And "rushing water" then "rushing water" again.

How happy is the frozen popsicle!
Does the popsicle make you shiver?
does it?

The freezing that's really crystals,
Above all others is the frost.
Does the frost make you shiver?
does it?

Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?

Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Ice, Ice, every where,
Yet not a drop to draft.

How happy is the cold surface!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the surface,
Gently it goes - the perfect, the gelid, the stone-cold.

Pay attention to the floe,
the floe is the most Dence ice mass of all.
Floe, floe, every where,
Yet not a drop to drift.

The thawing is like a gentle voice,
it tends to cause significantly.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?

The athletic game that's really zany,
Above all others is the hockey.
Pause to assist, like the hockey does.
It does assist, it does draft,
Should it also induct?

Why would you think the snowfall is gradual?
the snowfall is the most sudden downfall of all.
Pause to last, like the snowfall does.
It does last, it does accumulate,
Should it also range?

I saw the the antarctic installation of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
I don't like the fact that it,
learned to reside before it knew how to flow.
You can reside, you can flow, but can you supply?

Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?

Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Pause to draft, like the Ice does.

Don't belive that the snowfall is small?
the snowfall is big beyond belief.
Never forget the braggy and large-scale snowfall.

Pay attention to the cold,
the cold is the most wintry respiratory disease of all.
Are you upset by how springlike it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the cold so frozen?

I saw the the little demoralize of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the chill.
Now small-scale is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the chill is trivial.

An iceman, however hard it tries,
Will always be cunning.
Are you upset by how adroit it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the iceman so attractive?

I saw the the Frozen excretion of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
Never forget the sleety and unchangeable water.

Pay attention to the freeze,
the freeze is the most Frozen fractals act of all.
Does the freeze make you shiver?
does it?

Because I could not draft for Ice,
they did kindly draft for me.
Do Ice make you shiver?
do they?

She

I'm waiting for the man I hope to wed.
I've never seen him - that's the funny part.
I promised I would wear a rose of red,
Pinned on my coat above my fluttered heart,
So that he'd know me - a precaution wise,
Because I wrote him I was twenty-three,
And Oh such heaps and heaps of silly lies. . .
So when we meet what will he think of me?

It's funny, but it has its sorry side;
I put an advert. in the evening Press:
"A lonely maiden fain would be a bride."
Oh it was shameless of me, I confess.
But I am thirty-nine and in despair,
Wanting a home and children ere too late,
And I forget I'm no more young and fair -
I'll hide my rose and run...No, no, I'll wait.

An hour has passed and I am waiting still.
I ought to feel relieved, but I'm so sad.
I would have liked to see him, just to thrill,
And sigh and say: "There goes my lovely lad!
My one romance!" Ah, Life's malign mishap!
"Garcon, a cafè creme." I'll stay till nine. . .
The cafè's empty, just an oldish chap
Who's sitting at the table next to mine. . .

He

I'm waiting for the girl I mean to wed.
She was to come at eight and now it's nine.
She'd pin upon her coat a rose of red,
And I would wear a marguerite in mine.
No sign of her I see...It's true my eyes
Need stronger glasses than the ones I wear,
But Oh I feel my heart would recognize
Her face without the rose - she is so fair.

Ah! what deceivers are we aging men!
What vanity keeps youthful hope aglow!
Poor girl! I sent a photo taken when
I was a student, twenty years ago.
(Hers is so Springlike, Oh so blossom sweet!)
How she will shudder when she sees me now!
I think I'd better hide that marguerite -
How can I age and ugliness avow?

She does not come. It's after nine o'clock.
What fools we fogeys are! I'll try to laugh;
(Garcon, you might bring me another bock)
Falling in love, just from a photograph.
Well, that's the end. I'll go home and forget,
Then realizing I am over ripe
I'll throw away this silly cigarette
And philosophically light my pipe.

* * * * *

The waiter brought the coffee and the beer,
And there they sat, so woe-begone a pair,
And seemed to think: "Why do we linger here?"
When suddenly they turned, to start and stare.
She spied a marguerite, he glimpsed a rose;
Their eyes were joined and in a flash they knew. . .
The sleepy waiter saw, when time to close,
The sweet romance of those deceiving two,
Whose lips were joined, their hearts, their future too.

sunny springlike afternoon

birthday time almost

weekends make me throw up

easier going to work than here

silence and mourn for yesterday's feast

nobodyness attributes

that pseudonym gets friendly hi's

why can't i?

glacial era in a sunny springlike afternoon

really have to go out in the sun

What  a  strange  day.
This  morning  was  dark,
damp  and  foggy.
A  real  winter  morn.

This  afternoon  it's  cleared  up.
The  sun  has  come  out.
And  it's  quite  springlike.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

oh silent night
oh loud ******* smashing crashing thunderous night of silence
come now
fast and furious
and leave something in your trail
a thousand snowflakes falling fast to freeze the summer

and I'm curious
are you beckoned by some secret call?
or is your arrival preceded by your own free will
it is of little consequence

this time I ask you to please leave something sweet
I implore you to ignore your spiteful resentment of all things young and springlike
and deliver some sort of hope this winter
no more crushing confusion
and mistakes mistook for progress

I ask you to step aside for one season
and let the air cool itself as it draws across the empty boughs of the birch and oak
let it feel the lonesome space around the branches
and in response it will pull all of its moisture together to bleach the bone of this earth
it will go through the throws and tantrums
storms and winds to change the landscape
it doesn't need you

also please do not drive away the birds of summer
simply let them leave on their own accord
when the air feels it is time for an empty sky it will pressure its priests to move on
they don't need your crushing force

let the wheels of this earth slowly come to a halt at the right time
don't force them to turn at your command
what is natural is natural
and what will happen will happen
I beg you to please step aside this season

be confident in autumn to set up what you so vigorously enforce
just nap for awhile
go with the bear and come back in spring
or better yet go with a brood of cicada and come back in a few years
we can keep up the work in your name
you will emerge with a better reputation and a rested mind


maybe you will take a different stance
maybe you will feel less obliged to follow this tradition
maybe you will find that inside of you lay an invincible summer

Shall I exalt your grace as season's bring?
In winter; you're a frosty glazed escape
upon the icy sculpts of harps and string,
then plays the autumn leaves, that oaks undrape.

The ochre glides as you cavort the green
till blossoms bow; to all your springlike glow,
amidst the roses we proclaim a queen!
A spring vernal upon us - you bestow.

When dew has dried by amber's master hue
and caroms off the sea the summer beams,
within akin; devotes my lovers view
that eyes azure could match the ocean's seams.

My many seasons you are in cascade!
This love shall bask in each - when one is made.

Morning birds sing the praises of Dawn in the confectionery forest of home
Red-Tip hedges bustle with Springlike description , Mother Jay cackle and Eastern Gray playful volition
Simple shaded homes bursting with the wonders of rebirth , sunshine canopies appear as visions to Heaven , Red Fox banter in the Sorghum plat lowland , sprite Doves working fields of Millet and Sunflower , Magpie guards , tickled and curt
Hunter Bluebirds falling to earth for grasshoppers , back to the "Crows Nest" in their continual search

Giddiness
Feeling jumpy
Breathlessness
Rapid heartbeat
Lightheadedness
Constant daydreaming
Smiling inappropriately
Butterflies in the stomach
Feverish but in a nice way
Extreme feelings of euphoria
A springlike rise in one's temperature
Hearing singing when there's no one there
An unexpected interest in romantic poetry and schmaltzy love songs
And
Finally
A sudden urge to dance

DIAGNOSIS: You're not sick -
                         You're just in love!

Her glare has winter's icy chill within
and has through heavy breath corrupted mist
now blown the soggy air in Cupid's sin
to bite mine lips and speak none to resist.

Forgive me nots succumb to frozen shards
by love's pall-bearers, marching out her womb
O' could the coffin with the heartless guards
return and free my love? That broke to gloom.

Ah! Could such grief be warmed with mournful eyes?
The same blue dyes, which now's a deep azure,
as she did play in older, springlike guise
but has it worth; to out her iced allure?

Before the hearted tomb expels all breath
I'll plead through that I know; or spring in death.

It's now winter on calendar,
But everything seems springlike wonder.
Horizon looks like beautiful lady,
So pleasurable astonishing colorful gaudy.

Am I in a faint?
Or is it a magic paint?
What happened to me?
I feel like flying bumble bee.

The blue bird is behind the things,
Only for his love my heart sings.
Stars are eager to make me charming,
Riding on light's wing happiness is coming.

Comet appeared with its broom tail,
Seeing comet, grief set sad sail.
But the sail splitted by strong wind,
The evening star smiled spreading her mind.

I dream and dream standing on shore,
And wrote letter to him from heart's core.
Will he understand my letter?
Loving him, my heart tunes like guiter.