James George - Winter's Bone

Nicotined widows reminisce,
Dainty dragons bellow mist,
A cacophony of baritone moans, coughs and sniffs,
The dawn chorus,
It's the symphony of the sick,
Herald the arrival,
The sky crawler, ever earlier retires,
Lethargic,
Cooling of the fire,
It's the prominence of darkness,
Ruling of the night,
Sinners stir from slumber,
To seek their provisions
In the shadows it provides,
For the relics cast aside,
It amplifies the loneliness and deepens the desire,
Like this now abandoned perch,
Perpetual in youth,
Adorned and hoary headed,
From the drips of frozen dew,
Ferns in full regalia,
Now skeletal perennials,
As they shed their golden garbs,
And bare their outstretched bones,
To receive their winters cloak,
The swallows song is sullen,
The robins nest is hollow,
The central heating's creaking,
Much to dads bereavement,
The side roads are all ice rinks,
The cars can't stop from sliding,
And they're more clumsy than graceful,
Spring lurks anxious and waitful,
But winters tide is playful,
And won't retire unless he's made to,
Only then does he give way to
All the pretty, bright young things,
That glitter, shine and gleam,
Then this dreary Winters day,
Gives way to sprightly Spring.

James George

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-s-bone/