FEBRUARY

Easterly the winds are blowing,

Howling, fifing through the keyhole;

Hard as flint is all the landscape;

Shifting snow shall come and gather

O’er the hard and black brown furrows.

On the ash-twig tunes the song thrush,

Tunes the little spotted song thrush,

And the jolly, half-starved robin

Sings as sweetly as the blackbird.

 

Bob Cochrane Age 12

Tullygrawley School