March powder

Mother Nature, in eager hope for spring,
powders the contours of her waiting face,
with the cool and pretty, fluffy touch,
of late snowflakes, dotted through sky space.

Not as welcome as her smiling of sunbeams,
or the south wind baring grassy lawn.
What has been so long white, it seems,
anticipation has been satisfied, snow gone.

Unwilling to see spring's sparse grass concealed,
with powdery flakes, whiteness again appears,
but soon, March lawn, now to be revealed.
With showers, will be washed with April's tears.