February

I left you too long

When you were still young

In my head that baby remains.

The curl of your hair

Skin like gold and fair 

As fair as your air 

that you spin.

 

Moved, one strange place to the other

Transferred from one mother to another

Adapting was all you knew.

You change with the seasons 

For so many reasons 

One being that the frost

Did not suit you.

 

From coconut trees

And summer breeze

To cautious preventions of frost bites

from snow.

All I can say

Is that at the end of the day

February is my favourite time.

 

You were young 

Yet you've grown up so fine

I sometimes wonder 

Were you truly mine?

 

But in February when it's below zero

I can still keep you close

Keep you nearer 

And as you lie in my warm embrace 

Huddled close to see again the curled

lashes on your face

Yes. You are. 

I know that baby is mine.