Hidden away in a secret valley somehow keeping warm
Developing and controlling the uncontrollable brain storm
Safely separate from all the peeps and content to be alone
Yet placing very carefully the makings of stepping stones.
WHEN TO CAST A CLOUT
There are signs that the season of hibernation is coming to an end
I’ve seen the sun and scratched my bum and even had a walk
But I will not count chickens or try to plan a picnic with a friend
Until the day when the local spray does not taste of salt.