The cold early mornings of February rise in shades of orange red, And the clouds slowly stretch, leaving the sun time to dress. With its sweet heat, it melts the ice that the night deposits like a shell, on a nature, still numb , that only wants to come back to life. February has a bad reputation. When reading the old sayings , it is said that it is cold, rainy, windy And yet it is very laborious Since it prepares Spring Drawing the nature of its numbness A little more, every day Without waiting for anything in return That to die, to leave its place to this naughty month of March. Tuesday-fat and the candlemas bring to this small working month a festive atmosphere, appreciated by the little ones who cover it with the colours of the confetti.
πππ I like this poem, thank you cherry orange, in general you can find those who touch directly into the heart πΉπΉπΉπΉπΉπ€π€π€πΉπΉπΉππππππππ