Winds of winter flow from north.
Howls of storms grow in the porch.
The evergreen, the only seen
Of all the colours fading off.
So long and dull, the winter’s tale.
So cold and hard, the raining hale.
The evergreen is out again,
The ground once green is ever pale.
The cloudy skies are turning grey,
The winter night takes over day.
The evergreen comes into seed,
We hope to last with bread and hay.
The springing days seem far away,
I hope to see the month of May.
The evergreen may lose its lean,
But we’ll survive another day.