February is writing down memories of mother earth,
Covering the horizon with the snowiest fairy tales,
Bright, and cool, the splendid moon sings to sun hymns of rebirth,
Yearning warmth, peaceful and sweet, crafting hope through love’s details.
In the mornings, northeast winds whisper tune from hazy skies
Caressing the bare ash trees: Would you be my Valentine?
From ether, the psalms of joy bring the heaven close to heart,
Whitening the barren past through the miracles of times.
Turning frozen winters up to the glorious spring art,
Snowdrops smile, cheerful and bright, listening to robins’ rhymes.
Great grey shrikes are chirping songs in the quest of love skyline.
Candid days are asking nights: Would you be my Valentine?
Fieldfares, finches, cardinals are embracing with their wings,
Seeds of hope in barren stems, penning beauty under skies.
Carrying notes from the ninth cloud with the harmony’s bright strings,
Great crested grebes’ excitement moves are enchanting passion’s eyes.
From my frosty winter’s tale, thoughts are crossing, bare, love’s line,
Whispering to you my pitch: Would you be my Valentine?