Of all the months of all the year old March has them all beat.
First we suffer from the cold, then we suffer from the heat.
The wind it huffs and puffs around. The rain falls all day,
But then at night it snows and snows and never stops to play.
Next morning out pops the sun and melts the snow, and then
The children all come running out ready for play again.
The east wind takes a look and thinks, “Now I’ll have some fun.”
He picks up the boys hats and says, “Now watch them run.”
He tosses all the kites around away off through the sky.
And then he laughs, how he can make the little girls to cry.
Oh yes! Old March is full of fun, he keeps us on the go.
First we are wading through the mud, then plowing through the snow.
So of all the months of all the year, we like old March the best.
He keeps us guessing all the time and never lets us rest.
— by Lena Gertrude Dixon Wiles, our Grandmother
2 thoughts on “Old March”
Your grandmother is a poet! We have a similar poem here in Germany, it says:
"April, April, he does not know, what he wants. First the sun is laughing, then snow is looking between the clouds, April, April, he does not know, what he wants…"
I see, our spring is coming later than yours. Here still everything is frozen.
What a great poem. March has arrived here with much mildness…in like a lamb.