Winter stay from my sight

Ring out the falling, turning leaved salute
For autumn's death knells out once more
As every squirrel waits with bated breath
Bluebells die on forest floors

In strident step, heads down, we bid adieu
Then mourn with cannon crack of frost
A thrill of smoke breathed, scarf-necked dawn
Of Winter married, autumn lost

A face with fourscore year and ten and more
Atop a tweed-decked, age-wrecked frame
Curls flame to leaf with chilblained hands
He sits, and puffs pedantically

Through myriad parks on fog-damped afternoons
On greying grass by naked trees
A merriment of children run
With mongrel dogs on makeshift leads

Spring's careful, tender beauty breathes her last
Among a throng of silent sighing cries
No man may hear the fading of its throes
Yet still, it washes over, makes us wise

For here the Season’s harrowing honeymoon
Rebounding, running, tumbling down the line
Year on year, and age on age the same
Of Calvary's pain foretold in Wintertime