Scattered in the garden under a cold sky

Pockets of primrose, bunched up and brave;

Leafless in late March the trees wave and sigh,

“Dress us in warm leaves for that’s what we crave”

Then the white plum blossom out in the wind

Not shaken down yet as it’s destined

Wretched sciatica my love is burdened by

Plus the rotten Other, yet she’s busy now

Cleaning and cooking and set to defy

All of the odds and while my head I bow

Writing my verses – she’s bravest of all

My head’s inclining while she’s standing tall

Courage, willpower – these she’d dispute

But she’s my heroine – also she’s cute!