Fierce Farewell and Gentle Greeting

How the lion roared his feigned farewell;
we smiled when in mid-month,the lamb appeared,
but March, the rascal, either tale can tell.
Now--Has the lion held sway?--could be feared.

The blanket, cold and white, returned, increased,
in swirling, veil-like spirals in the air.
By faithful season's change, we believe them ceased,
and trust the perky green is under there.

As in years past, the unlikely victor enters;
a dripping, dreamy, foolish April soon holds sway,
and, though the lion roars, an impotent dissenter,
come mist and showers that to spring give way.

So, wild and furious, though his parting shot be,
time and history show it all a sham,
and the blustery lion of winter, we'll see,
bested by things like robin, raindrop, lamb.