Winter Without Hope (A nod to Coleridge)

Winter, homeless and drunk on the sidewalk he lays, a cold and bitter thing  
But winter slumbering in the open air, wears on his smiling face a dream of spring  
   
Winter lives on the harder side of life unchosen, so winter takes more than he gives    
Cold winds talk of winter’s death, yet survivors bloom for beauty and all that lives  
   
Memories of blue shadows I can recall, when I woke to find a wonderland of snow last year  
Everything covered in an angel's coat of white purity, with ice sickles crying a melting tear  
   
The quiet beauty of the snowfall belies the harshness of the winter’s frozen land  
Winter withers like a woman grown old and turns cold like a jilted lover's hand    
   
A freezing night hears hope's faint breath, but hope will not give up and hope will not die  
Spring will have a party outside with all its friends, while winter watching from afar tries not to cry  
   
Winter cannot hold his grasp forever and not a moment too soon his strength will disappear  
Then the green shoots of every plant will emerge and the buds of promise will appear    
   
Spring’s conquered victory acclaimed to all, gives joyous celebration of life renewed    
Arrayed in sunlight and standing proud, yet spring still mourns for winter’s bad attitude  
   
Cold and bleak under gray skies of regret winter alone tries to drink his sorrows all away    
While leafless trees shiver in the breeze, wishing for the happiness of spring like a holiday    
   
Next year to stagger and stumble winter will fall again, oblivious to what time can bring  
Winter will again slumber in the open air and wear on his drunken face dreams of love and hope of spring