The winter sun is weak and pale
and though it strives, to no avail,
to warm my bones from Winters night,
it’s still a welcome, cheering sight
a pause between the rain and hail.

A change from low dark clouds that veil
the tops of hills above the vale,
and storms that rage with all their might.
The Winter sun.

The march to Spring is much too frail
with frost still painting field and trail,
but none the less, a pure delight
are new green shoots that seek the light
and stand up straight as if to hail
the Winter sun.