Leaps and Bounds

Aren't Februarys curious months? Fast and fleeting. Last year was a leap year and this year it's odd to think that there's a day that simply isn't there. A lost anniversary. It's like the hole in your smile after you lose a tooth, the empty bed of tender flesh that you can't help but probe with your tongue, the dull pain a reminder of what was there. Like Tom's Midnight Garden when the clock strikes thirteen, or when you miss a step on the stairs. It's as if somewhere out there, there are all these lost days that exist beyond our calendar...days and days of wind and rain, bird song and snowdrops and mild February sun, just out of reach.



The Lady's Song in Leap Year

Roses are red, diddle diddle, lavender's blue,
If you will have me, diddle diddle, I will have you.
Lillies are white, diddle diddle, rosemary's green,
When you are king, diddle diddle, I will be queen.
Call up your men, diddle diddle, set them to work,
Some to the plough, diddle diddle, some to the cart,
Some to make hay, diddle diddle, some to cut corn,
While you and I, diddle diddle, keep the bed warm.

- Faber Book of Verse