February

February.

The month is often cold, dark,
I never hear the cheerful lark,
februa it's old roman name,
purification the name of the game.

Stormy weather it's usual start,
a little calmer the second part,
long quiet spells, moderatly cold,
the bird table a sight to behold.

Raucous starlings an unwelcome sight,
other birds hardly a bite,
a cold february, let it be done,
better that than a cold spring run.

A wood mouse looking for scraps,
the grey squirrel avoids my traps,
smooth newts stir in my pond,
snow drops begin to respond.

Still the trees stripped bare,
some trunks a concessionaire,
a toadstool begins to grow,
velvet shanks makes a show.

Covered bird feeder doing well,
handy in a rainy cold spell,
mold free food, nutritious,dry,
scuffles, what a hue and cry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmYC-dPxDjI