The Dreaming Grey: A poem

Mildewed in cold February were the leaves and grey
In the evening winds where they gently lay
        In pursuit of some joy forlorn
        Whereto the sands of time had never yet gone
        A winter’s fey, a winter’s fey
Mourned the mildewed leaves where they gently lay

Cloaked in dreary snow were the windows today
Overlooking streets where children ne’er played
        Forever lost in a neighbour’s dreams
        Lending an indifferent ear to our silent screams
        A winter’s lay, a winter’s lay
Called the windows unto the streets empty and insatiate

Unborn and nigh loveless were the words left to say
Yet hope remains for a callow to endure the starved clay
        When leaves may know their green again
        And windows may live their dreams under the rain
        A summer’s day, a summer’s day
So the children may remember the vaunt it is to play