By Jess Trigg
When will we see the snow drops again
And the yearning buds of roses
The crocuses will play amongst the grass
Whilst the tulips choose their poses
Oh to smell the blooming trees
That blush in the late winter sun
The geranium scents will rise again
Whilst the jasmine exudes love
When will the flying choirs begin
To wake us from our long sleep
The pale green leaves will bustle around
Whilst the fox below loudly weeps
we must wait
In the patient
to negotiate its place
For microbes to die
And governments to say,
Good riddance to this harshness.
My name is Jessica and I am 24. I live in London and work for a cancer charity in an administrative role.
I am new to writing poetry but wrote this piece when feeling upset that I would not be able to visit family for Christmas. With the rising cases and general feeling of doom that took hold of society in the days before Christmas, it was hopeful to think that by the time spring plants started to grow, cases would have dropped and restrictions would be eased. The staggered words at the end of the poem were used to represent how long winter can feel, but also how quiet and peaceful it can be, which provides a natural comfort to the uncertain events happening around us.