For innocents awake to Friendship’s arms
Hearts are not just for February days
They are a bit of make-believe
To soothe winter’s uncaring ways
A bit of mulch, clay pots, will toy
Violets and lavender bouquets scent
To quiet inlets of a gardener’s soul
And ease a snowy discontent
Some wayward bulbs may yet instead
Break forth through frozen ground
Bare branches stretching out their souls
Refuse to hide! Small buds abound
The spring will once again infuse
The garden’s air with sentiment
So hearts ‘mid greens again amuse
Worn, loving hands only slightly bent