That's it, the worst is over now,
Long season of the shivers.
With confidence we're safe to plough,
Pray our crop of hope delivers.

Soothsayers all, we foretell close days,
When sunny warmth returns.
And though well known too brief it stays,
Spring never summer spurns.

So, begins here light’s crescendo,
Towards the climax of the year.
Before slow fade; diminuendo,
As its end again draws near.

In the meantime let's all sigh and smile,
Enjoy what turning Earth provides.
Explore sun's wherewithal a while,
Before too soon it hasty hides.