It is rather a time of joy,
Now that you are about to leave,
For we could never see eye to eye,
So now I shall no more grieve.
Until the next time when you come again,
To wrap the world in your beautiful blanket,
Of cold, white and painful silence,
That will slow time down to tranquil.
But I hardly admire the peace of your presence,
In our lives for those nights so long,
For you bring with you chilly winds,
That sing a grim and gloomy song.
You paint deep wrinkles on the faces
Of young and old, everyone alike,
And put to bed timid creatures,
That run for their life, as you strike.
You announce your arrival with a sweet fragrance,
That invites everyone for a walk in the woods,
And then you reveal your dark face,
That hisses cold secrets from under the hood.
On your way back, when you are in full bloom,
You scribble epitaphs for the poor and old,
Who give in to death and it takes them away,
To become lost stories, forgotten and told.
So, now that you are leaving, O Winter,
I bid you farewell with a joyous heart,
And I wait for Spring and all its colour,
For a new life and old warmth as you depart!
30th January 2019
©sugandhswani_
