Saturday 8th February 

Cold and chilly 
Raw biting wind 
Pink-pinched cheeks 
Winter's tinged 

Through the air 
It nips and sneaks 
Turning breath 
To icy peaks 

Each gust a whisper 
Sharp and keen 
Dancing of leaves 
No longer green 

Love you so much 
Precious sons 
Beloved Mum 
xxxxx