Winter

Early February	Snow in February
Cold winter's not over, by any means There's still frost on the grass And cold are the winds. But at six in the morning I heard the first sound Of a faint dawn chorus Spring must be around. By seven it's light And stays so till five, That's on a bright day When our spirits revive. I'll put up with the cold, But I do hate the dark So on this bright morning I find hope in my heart. Green leaves are appearing On the Elder outside, Snow Drops are in bloom. Spring's come for a ride, To tell us that soon, Even though it might snow, She's just round the corner Urging winter to go.	Round the corner spring might be, But today it seems like we Will be skidding down our hill. Not me though, I'll stay still Inside my darling "Grot Box" home That my daughters so despise. To me it's small, familiar, dear, I've no wish to go from here. Except, perhaps on days like this When snow shines bright in lamp-light. Clinging to trees and cars alike. My little car will stay outside. Shopping forsaken, Me spending the time Making a steak and kidney pie, And cake's in the kitchen, Where heat will be high. Marooned are we, up here in the snow It's then that I really want to go Somewhere that's flat and snug and right I think that Stockbridge would be nice But no hope for us at all We stay here till we get "the call" Then carried out from here we'll be Out tiny home where I brought up all three.

Early February

Snow in February

Cold winter's not over, by any means
There's still frost on the grass
And cold are the winds.
But at six in the morning
I heard the first sound
Of a faint dawn chorus
Spring must be around.
By seven it's light
And stays so till five,
That's on a bright day
When our spirits revive.
I'll put up with the cold,
But I do hate the dark
So on this bright morning
I find hope in my heart.

Green leaves are appearing
On the Elder outside,
Snow Drops are in bloom.
Spring's come for a ride,
To tell us that soon,
Even though it might snow,
She's just round the corner
Urging winter to go.

Round the corner spring might be,
But today it seems like we
Will be skidding down our hill.
Not me though, I'll stay still
Inside my darling "Grot Box" home
That my daughters so despise.
To me it's small, familiar, dear,
I've no wish to go from here.
Except, perhaps on days like this
When snow shines bright in lamp-light.
Clinging to trees and cars alike.
My little car will stay outside.
Shopping forsaken,
Me spending the time
Making a steak and kidney pie,
And cake's in the kitchen,
Where heat will be high.

Marooned are we, up here in the snow
It's then that I really want to go
Somewhere that's flat and snug and right
I think that Stockbridge would be nice
But no hope for us at all
We stay here till we get "the call"
Then carried out from here we'll be
Out tiny home where I brought up all three.