So, comes my sublime beauty Februa,
She, of icy breath and eyes of amethyst
returns to pierce my heart once more,
to snub my pure, white, devoted love,
a capricious erstwhile valentine.
Cloaked in snow, with winged feet,
Stays briefly, still, to catch my gaze,
She deigns me kiss her pearly ring,
her only token left, a floral bed,
shaken brusquely from a snowy cape,
the violet and the primrose,
and she is gone.
© Graham Sherwood
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