March is so very different to February, it speaks of hope, where Feb' spelt despair.
Now we'll all begin to blossom again; our sap will rise, and the air we breathe will taste of honey.
The sun will have genuine warmth, those checkout girls will smile again, and there will be free sweets for all.
Bones will mend, chilblains disappear, and freckles darken.
Street conversations will change. No longer will we speak of wind and weather but of far distant islands and sandy beaches, of cold beer and BBQ's, and of picnics and pools.
Haddock's will soon overflow with Tomatoes, Peppers, and Aubergines. Flowers will surround our doorways. Logs will remain unsawn.
Croissants will always be made with butter, Chickens will all be free range and maize fed, and my weekly supply of bread will be hand delivered by the lovely Sandrine.
Trump will become couth, Fat Boy will apologise to the world, and Assad will roll up his sleeves and personally help to rebuild Syria.
In a US amnesty, all guns and ammo will be handed in to the cops.
Yes, I like March. life will now be perfect. Good times ahead.
MEANWHILE: I believe snow has fallen in many parts of Europe. Not here.