The flowers that bloom in the springtime–hotcha!
If the backache hasn’t, the blisters have gotcha.
by Ray Romine Thursday, April 12, 1951
Category: Seasons
Poems about the seasons
After The Snow
The winter stands in silence now,
His white scarf pulled about his throat,
And contemplates , with furrowed brow,
His sparkling ermine overcoat.
The hungry sparrow chirps protest
Upon the callous icy air,
And l ongs for summer, when the best
Was always on his Bill-of-fare.
I know what his forlornness means,
For as the bitter days go by,
I’d give the winter’s choicest scenes
For one small yellow butterfly.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, December 18, 1945