In the gentle hush of February’s chill,
Where winter’s breath lingers still,
The world sleeps beneath a blanket white,
Dreaming of spring’s distant light.

Frosted windows tell a story old,
Of love and loss in the biting cold,
Hearts entwined in icy chains,
Waiting for warmth to break their pains.

Each snowflake a fleeting kiss,
A moment of ephemeral bliss,
Falling softly, silently,
In February’s serene tranquility.

Yet hope springs eternal in winter’s heart,
As days grow longer, shadows depart,
February whispers a quiet plea,
For the rebirth that soon shall be.