In January's cold gloom
When shiver we must,
Armed with camera out we go
Forgetting all this winter's frost
because we have a photograph to post.
When sleeps the hedgehog
neath the leaves that Autumn wrought
And log fires just a memory,
And ev'n the squirrel hides his face
Then come o Spring; we're pining here,
To see the snowdrops bright white lace.