Thinking back to winter

The lily leaves blend with leaf mould and ferns,
Across the mud banks by each wooded fringe;
She watches blackthorn overhang and earns
A rebuke for distraction - sharp words singe
Her back to focus better than the smart
Of whippings he's delivered with the flow
of misty winter drizzle, which will start
To stream downhill outside, that will not slow
Until it reaches boggy woods beyond
The stone bridge where he always has her bend
On sunny days, because he is quite fond
Of her exposure; and his feelings tend
To direct her outside, as he relieves
Her needs amidst ferns, mould and lily leaves