Ask not the cause why sullen spring
So long delays her flow'rs to bear;
Why warbling birds forget to sing,
And winter storms invert the year?
Willa is gone; and Fate provides
To make it spring where she resides.
*I hope John Dryden forgives me for taking the slightest bit of liberty with his charming ditty. I don't know Chloris, to whom he originally penned the poem, but it's certain that Willa's been hogging good weather lately. Sincerest apologies to those she's left behind in the Polar Vortex!
