The patio in front
Is solitary and blunt,
Table for snaks
All covered with tracks
From birds searching wide
For seeds, this and that tried.
That comfortable chair all cushioned
Has been stripped of it position
When it gave brief respite
Where all was quiet.
Lonely comfortable chair
Strangely quiet and bare.
Many the friends who drop
When they chose to stop
In this shaded place
Away from the race.
Now, It isn’t dead you know,
Simply resting beneath the snow,
For to notice the first crocus bloom,
And once again become an outside room
Where all will be well again
To give strength for a stand.
