Grieving winter thieves surround
the darling buds that sway
eager sprouts that seem so green
one wonders if there's ever been
a time of mirth and wonder.

Stealing moments of your time
I feel the need to hide
seek the ways to start to climb
that sacred hill; confide.

Weaving garlands, happily
maidens dance around the pole
every smile quite cheerfully
sings of sun and woods of glee.