I yearn for climates more serene
with landscapes painted blissful green
beyond the touch of winter’s chill.
Although on paper this is Spring,
my garden doesn’t yield a thing,
no hyacinth or daffodil.
But while I search impatiently,
I spy a robin in the tree.
I listen to his cheerful trill
and with his song, I feel no cold.
As warmer days will soon unfold,
I find my cure without a pill.
© Susan Schoeffield
Written for Day 4 of the Poetic Asides April 2014 PAD Challenge. The prompt today was to write a “Since [blank]” poem.