Shall I compare thee to a summer's dress?
You flow with the wind and your branches sway;
Fluttering without failing to impress,
You send spiralling petals on their way.
Your blossoms had been blooming but now parks,
Seen covered by a blanket of pink snow,
Are layered with rays of sunshine which marks,
The approach of long nights we used to know:
No need we have of swaddling layers,
No faces wrung with discontent or chills
Mother nature has answered our prayers
And tulips follow golden daffodils.
With disrobed branches, this not be the end,
For our winter woes journey to be mend.