Cold, incessant rains, howling gale,
Picture taken from: Google search
make even the giant of a man frail.
dogs, cats, squirrels,
all run for shelters.
dripping wet, shivering,
the winter rain is reigning.
I watch with much dismay,
tiny saplings that wither away,
will not bloom a single one,
this spring to match the sun.
In an earthen pot I see some scope,
a gerbera bud with stains of hope,
none to be found, all other fled,
a lone warrior hold high its head.
Instead the case, I notice with mirth,
every rain drop adding to its girth,
Soon a happy red will come into view,
With it spring ...and butterflies too!