From the playful antics of Groundhog Day to the romantic allure of Valentine’s Day, February is a month full of nascent signs of spring and poetic potential.
Whether you’re looking to capture the whimsy of the season or the deeper emotions of love and loss, February poems offer a creative way to express yourself and connect with others.
So embrace the spirit of the season and let these poems on February awaken your senses to the wonder and beauty of February.
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Funny February Poems
Lighten the mood with humorous, entertaining, and interesting poems about February that celebrate the whimsical and quirky aspects of February.
1. February Funny Bone
by Curtis Moorman
I know a young lady so fine
Her good looks almost made me blind
I bought some dark shades
To cut down the glaze
And now that young lady is mine
2. February 30
by Lei Strauss
She said it’s over
We’ll forget what we had
Sooner to leave
It’s ever too bad.
She said a date
Oh February 30!
It broke my heart
Broke me so gently.
Spent long hours
But I’d realized
Something was wrong.
It was just a trick
Rolled myself laughing
So stupid and freak.
3. February Funny Bone
by Katherine Stella
Once came along a groundhog named Phil
Looked for shadow in winters chill
Even top hat and coat
Didn’t stop whining’s gloat
Stuck six more weeks paying heating bill
4. February 14
by Paula Goldsmith
Your wonderful love
Pretty flowers, candy, cards
Filled with your kisses
5. February Love Poem
by Vincent Onyeche
To wear red robes
So many romances
With short plans
And unending pains
Famous February Poems
A lot of famous poets have written about February, leaving a rich legacy of iconic poems that continue to inspire and enchant. Here are some famous poems about February.
1. Leap Year
Little month of February,
You are small, but worthy—very!
Will you grow up like the others,
Like your sister months and brothers?
Every four years with a bound
With a leap up from the ground,
Trying to grow tall as they—
All you stretch is one small day!
Even then you’re not so tall
But just the shortest month of all.
2. February Gems
by Allen R. Darrow
To wandering children in the ages old,
I’ve often heard that mystic tales were told
Of fairy lands, where oft on trees and bowers
There fell from heaven pure crystal gems in showers.
Well, I believe, and so I think must you
That myths are shadows sometimes of the true;
For going forth upon a winter morn
A wondrous glory did the day adorn,
On every tree along the city street,
What matchless splendor did my vision greet.
Pendant from silver-coated branch and stem,
In argent beauty hung a brilliant gem;
Sparkling in candescent glory bright,
Shone myriad diamonds in the morning light.
Nature from its exhaustless wealth and store,
Through every street and by-way o’er and o’er,
Prodigal alike to all the rich and poor
Had scattered rivals to the Khoinoor.
3. The February Hush
by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
Snow o’er the darkening moorlands,—
Flakes fill the quiet air;
Drifts in the forest hollows,
And a soft mask everywhere.
The nearest twig on the pine-tree
Looks blue through the whitening sky,
And the clinging beech-leaves rustle
Though never a wind goes by.
But there’s red on the wildrose berries,
And red in the lovely glow
On the cheeks of the child beside me,
That once were pale, like snow.
4. February Rain
by Charles Turner Dazey
O lonely day! No sounds are heard
Save winds and floods that downward pour,
And timid fluting of a bird,
That pipes one low note o’er and o’er.
Before the blast the bare trees lean,
The ragged clouds sail low and gray,
And all the wild and wintry scene
Is but one blur of driving spray.
O day most meet for memories,
For musing by a vacant hearth
On that which was and that which is,
And those who walk no more on earth!
And yet this dark and dreary day
Some brighter lesson still can bring,
For it is herald of the May,
A faint foretoken of the spring.
Beneath the ceaseless-beating rain
Earth’s snowy shroud fast disappears,
As sorrow pressing on the brain,
Fades in a flood of happy tears.
And thus in darkness oft is wrought,
Through lonely days of tears and grief,
The gradual change by which is brought
To shadowed lives some sweet relief.
by Jane [Goodwin] Austin
I thought the world was cold in death;
The flowers, the birds, all life was gone,
For January’s bitter breath
Had slain the bloom and hushed the song.
And still the earth is cold and white,
And mead and forest yet are bare;
But there’s a something in the light
That says the germ of life is there.
Deep down within the frozen brook
I hear a murmur, faint and sweet,
And lo! the ice breaks as I look,
And living waters touch my feet.
Within the forest’s leafless shade
I hear a spring-bird’s hopeful lay:
O life to frozen death betrayed
Thy death shall end in life to-day.
And in my still heart’s frozen cell
The pulses struggle to be free;
While sweet the bird sings, who can tell
But life may bloom again for thee!
6. Afternoon in February
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.
Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o’er the plain;
While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
A funeral train.
The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;
Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.
7. To the February Rain
Rain spikes broken in places
keep sliding down the halo
of a yellow street-light.
Scores of gleams from
Winds winding across trees
blowing the scent of grass rustle beside
my ear and moistening hair…
Is life a mere raindrop?
A long descent with
a moment’s glimmer against light?
Lost at last in the wet earth amongst its own.
by Helen Maria
Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;
And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence, still:
No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,
And willow stems grow daily red and bright.
These are the days when ancients held a rite
Of expiation for the old year’s ill,
And prayer to purify the new year’s will:
Fit days,—ere yet the spring rains blur the sight,
Ere yet the bounding blood grows hot with haste
And dreaming thoughts grow heavy with a greed
The ardent summer’s joy to have and taste:
Fit days—to take to last year’s losses heed,
To reckon clear the new life’s sterner need;
Fit days—for Feast of Expiation placed!
Inspirational February Poems
Use the nascent signs of spring as a metaphor for renewal, growth, and hope with inspirational February poems that offer a sense of optimism and encouragement. Let’s read these inspirational poems about February.
1. February’s Contrast
by Sherry Anne
February shadows in grey and mist
lurk over valleys mountains and hills
colorless days of freezing rain
ices the ground in a slippery glaze
the dying sun pants for breath
as death looms on icy trees
mercury plummets breaking records
wind wails lamenting autumn’s memory
light slowly pierces February’s gloom
days renewed from deep sleep awake
snow covered fields sparkle bright
in crystal chandeliers of purest light
by Bill Christophersen
The cold grows colder, even as the days
grow longer, February’s mercury vapor light
buffing but not defrosting the bone-white
ground, crusty and treacherous underfoot.
This is the time of year that’s apt to put
a hammerlock on a healthy appetite,
old anxieties back into the night,
insomnia and nightmares into play;
when things in need of doing go undone
and things that can’t be undone come to call,
muttering recriminations at the door,
and buried ambitions rise up through the floor
and pin your wriggling shoulders to the wall;
and hope’s a reptile waiting for the sun.
by Rebecca Hey
Though Winter still asserts his right to reign,
He sways his sceptre now with gentler hand;
Nay, sometimes softens to a zephyr bland
The hurrying blast, which erst along the plain
Drove the skin-piercing sleet and pelting rain
In headlong rage; while, ever and anon,
He draws aside his veil of vapours dun,
That the bright sun may smile on us again.
To-day ‘twould seem (so soft the west wind’s sigh)
That the mild spirit of the infant Spring
Was brooding o’er the spots where hidden lie
Such early flowers as are the first to fling
On earth’s green lap their wreaths of various dye—
Flowers, round whose forms sweet hopes and sweeter memories cling.
4. February Long
Fails to bear the summers fairing.
Stars descend to falling sand,
Take shape from Julius’ hand.
They age the days and mark the years
Of you, God’s angel biding here,
With Heaven’s clever bid to dwell
While making earth’s own journey tell:
One part a day each year we store,
To reconcile every fourth,
As if the universe is made
To make your birth a holiday.
By noting every c’lestial turn
In February we confirm
Each dawn is part your day-in-rest,
All twenty-nine that we are blessed.
In leaping years and hours gone
My zeal is February long.
Your world’s the sun to me, my love;
This monthlong gift from God above.
5. In Memory of a Happy Day in February
Blessed be Thou for all the joy
My soul has felt today!
O let its memory stay with me
And never pass away!
I was alone, for those I loved
Were far away from me,
The sun shone on the withered grass,
The wind blew fresh and free.
Was it the smile of early spring
That made my bosom glow?
‘Twas sweet, but neither sun nor wind
Could raise my spirit so.
Was it some feeling of delight,
All vague and undefined?
No, ’twas a rapture deep and strong,
Expanding in the mind!
Was it a sanguine view of life
And all its transient bliss–
A hope of bright prosperity?
O no, it was not this!
It was a glimpse of truth divine
Unto my spirit given
Illumined by a ray of light
That shone direct from heaven!
I felt there was a God on high
By whom all things were made.
I saw His wisdom and his power
In all his works displayed.
But most throughout the moral world
I saw his glory shine;
I saw His wisdom infinite,
His mercy all divine.
Deep secrets of his providence
In darkness long concealed
Unto the vision of my soul
Were graciously revealed.
But while I wondered and adored
His wisdom so divine,
I did not tremble at his power,
I felt that God was mine.
I knew that my Redeemer lived,
I did not fear to die;
Full sure that I should rise again
I longed to view that bliss divine
Which eye hath never seen,
Like Moses, I would see His face
Without the veil between.
Short February Poems
Sometimes the simplest words can be the most powerful. Short poetries about February capture the essence of the season in just a few lines, making them perfect for social media or greeting cards.
1. Welcome February
by Janice Scully
January was Glorious,
though landscapes were Spartan,
I love New Year parties
and honoring Martin.
But more good is coming.
I’m already thinking
and Abraham Lincoln.
2. The Brook in February
by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
A snowy path for squirrel and fox,
It winds between the wintry firs.
Snow-muffled are its iron rocks,
And o’er its stillness nothing stirs.
But low, bend low a listening ear!
Beneath the mask of moveless white
A babbling whisper you shall hear—
Of birds and blossoms, leaves and light.
3. I’m a Little Groundhog
I’m a little groundhog
short and stout,
I come out.
If I see my shadow,
they will shout
Six more weeks of winter—
by Edwin Arnold
Rain—hail—sleet—snow—But in my East
This is the time when palm-trees quicken
With flowers, wherefrom the Arabs’ feast
Of amber dates will thenceforth thicken.
Female and male apart they grow;
And o’er the desert sands is wafted,
On light airs of the After-glow,
That golden dust whence fruit is grafted.
No gray reality’s alloy
Your green ideal can diminish!
You have love’s kiss, in all its joy,
Without love’s lips, which let us finish!
5. February: Thinking of Flowers
by Jane Kenyon
Now wind torments the field,
turning the white surface back
on itself, back and back on itself,
like an animal licking a wound.
Nothing but white–the air, the light;
only one brown milkweed pod
bobbing in the gully, smallest
brown boat on the immense tide.
A single green sprouting thing
would restore me. . . .
Then think of the tall delphinium,
swaying, or the bee when it comes
to the tongue of the burgundy lily.
6. Valentine Month
by Lenore Hetrick
To some folks February means
A lot of changing weather,
And it is true, it grows quite rough,
With snow and rain together.
But February brings to me
A vision quite divine!
February brings to me
A nice, red valentine!
Long February Poems
For those who want to delve deeper into the rich tapestry of February imagery and symbolism, long poetries about February offer a more immersive and satisfying experience.
1. The Thrush in February
by George Meredith
I know him, February’s thrush,
And loud at eve he valentines
On sprays that paw the naked bush
Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
Now ere the foreign singer thrills
Our vale his plain-song pipe he pours,
A herald of his million bills;
And heed him not, the loss is yours.
My study, flanked with ivied fir
And budded beech with dry leaves curled,
Perched over yew and juniper,
He neighbors, piping to his world:
The wooded pathways dank on brown,
The branches on grey cloud a web,
The long green roller of the down
An image of the deluge-ebb:
And farther, they may hear along
The stream beneath the poplar row,
By fits, like welling rocks, the song
Spouts of a blushful Spring in flow.
But most he loves to front the vale
When waves of warm southwestern rains
Have left our heavens clear in pale,
With faintest beck of moist red veins:
Vermilion wings, by distance held
To pause aflight while fleeting swift:
And high aloft the pearl inshelled
Her lucid glow in glow will lift:
A little south of colored sky;
Directing, gravely amorous,
The human of a tender eye
Through pure celestial on us.
Remote, not alien; still, not cold;
Unraying yet, more pearl than star;
She seems awhile the vale to hold
In trance, and homelier makes the far.
The Earth her sweet unscented breathes;
An orb of lustre quits the height;
And like broad iris-flags, in wreaths
The sky takes darkness, long ere quite.
His Island voice then shall you hear,
Nor ever after separate
From such a twilight of the year
Advancing to the vernal gate.
He sings me, out of winter’s throat,
The young time with the life ahead;
And my young time his leaping note
Recalls to spirit-mirth from dead.
* * * * * * * *
Full lasting is the song, though he,
The singer, passes: lasting too,
For souls not lent in usury,
The rapture of the forward view.
With that I bear my senses fraught
Till what I am fast shoreward drives.
They are the vessel of my Thought.
The vessel splits, the Thought survives.
Nought else are we when sailing brave
Save husks to raise and bid it burn.
Glimpse of its livingness will wave
A light the senses can discern
Across the river of the death
Their close. Meanwhile, O twilight bird
Of promise! bird of happy breath!
I hear, I would the City heard.
2. How February’s Flown
by C Richard Miles
How February’s flown:
One day to go
Till March should enter
And march right in.
But in he sneaks
On slippered feet
More of a shuffle
With hints of spring.
But he keeps back
Hid up his sleeve
To mix some winter
With practised tricks.
He stirs some snow
Infused with frost
Inside his cauldron
For us to drink
Yet martial March
Which seems so strict
Cannot dismay us
He can’t hold back
The urgent thrust
Of waiting nature
That longs to burst
So bulbs will sprout
And buds will break
And leaves will open
Despite the cold
And birds will nest
And sheep will lamb
As winter weakens
Subdued by warmth
So silent spring
Will start to shout
From icy prison:
Now let me out!
3. February Days
by Ellwood Roberts
The icy northern blast sweeps by,
From wild wastes of the Arctic snow;
Above us droops a wintry sky,
A bleak white landscape lies below.
But, ‘neath the chilly Polar blast,
A low, sweet undertone I hear:
“The wintry storms will soon be past,
And pleasant Spring-time days are near.”
In Winter’s stern and icy grasp,
Are river, pond, and rill, to-day;
Like iron bonds his fetters’ clasp,
Like despot’s rule his frosty sway.
But only yesterday I heard—
Though all the landscape was so drear—
The sweet voice of a lonesome bird:
“The Spring-time days will soon be here.”
The air is icy, keen and chill,
All Nature lies in sleep profound,
That seems like death—so cold, so still—
But flowers are biding underground.
The sun mounts up, from day to day,
His beams each morn more full of cheer.
And to our hearts they seem to say:
“The Spring-time days will soon be here.”
The ice and snow will soon be gone,
The Spring-time waits the sun’s warm rays,
Already we can trace the dawn
Of brighter, warmer, sweeter days.
Each morn we watch for signs of Spring,
Each evening feel its coming near.
All Nature’s voices seem to sing:
“The Spring-time days will soon be here.”
And though an Arctic wind sweeps by
From wildest wastes of ice and snow,
And though above us wintry sky,
And desolate white fields below—
Beneath the wind’s wild organ-blast,
A low, sweet undertone I hear:
“The wintry storms will soon be past,
The sunny Spring-time days are near.”
4. February Heart
by Caitlin Rae
It’s been a year.
I wait, but why,
You’re still not here.
I knew you once,
But never again,
So please, take me back
To the way things were then.
Things are different,
You’re not the same now
As I believed you to be,
Please, become yourself again,
Because you’re getting hard to see…
You’re so cold.
My heart is frozen
Without you to hold.
I remember the way
Your lips felt against mine,
The day that you asked me
To be your valentine…
Where have you run?
It seems it was over
Before it ever begun…
You’ve been out of sight,
And I’ve been out of mind.
I guess you’re too lost
For me to ever find.
Sorry can’t repair,
The damage that is done here
The scratches, cuts, and tears.
As much as I want to,
I can’t apologize,
For things that have happened,
You’re the one who told the lies.
I guess that’s it, then,
No matter what I say,
You won’t come back again.
I guess our worlds
Lie too far apart,
But know that you are always
A piece of my February Heart.
Lovely March is not mourning
the passing of the ice
up and down the boulevard
my car skated there twice.
January was nasty this year
I didn’t write too much
the virus took it out of me
and hollowed then I was.
February was not too bad
I have a Valentine
unfortunately she too
was sick we faced
the messy side.
That’s when couples
make those sounds
far into the night
wafting through the
noises but still life!
You have to see the bright side
when you face the wall
that would be the outside
where the grass is growing tall.
Happened the other day
onions in the lead
reminding me everyone
needs the happy art
April is a better month
the first day tells it all
that’s when we remind
the world it’s all a fake
I’m not doing “fools” this year
there are too many guns
and humor has been
stop and go.
It could backfire soon.
July may take a better turn
someone might go away
all the pols soon leaving us
a brand new holiday.
as John Lennon sang
before they put him down
a world without the evil ones
a place where safety’s found.
His retort to brutish spies
what they did to him
December is a sadder month
but his work begins.
Any month as years go by
building a new world
bare feet solid
to the earth healing
souls being unfurled.
and we do
believing in a song
a prayer and the dawn
the world will need a pair
like us for many, many years.
6. The Shepherds Calendar – February
by John Clare
The snow is gone from cottage tops
The thatch moss glows in brighter green
And eves in quick succession drops
Where grinning ides once hath been
Pit patting Wi a pleasant noise
In tubs set by the cottage door
And ducks and geese wi happy joys
Douse in the yard pond brimming oer
The sun peeps thro the window pane
Which childern mark wi laughing eye
And in the wet street steal again
To tell each other spring is nigh
And as young hope the past recalls
In playing groups will often draw
Building beside the sunny walls
Their spring-play-huts of sticks or straw
And oft in pleasures dreams they hie
Round homsteads by the village side
Scratting the hedgrow mosses bye
Where painted pooty shells abide
Mistaking oft the ivy spray
For leaves that come wi budding spring
And wondering in their search for play
Why birds delay to build and sing
The milkmaid singing leaves her bed
As glad as happy thoughts can be
While magpies chatter oer her head
As jocund in the change as she
Her cows around the closes stray
Nor lingering wait the foddering boy
Tossing the molehills in their play
And staring round in frolic joy
Ploughmen go whistling to their toils
And yoke again the rested plough
And mingling oer the mellow soils
Boys’ shouts and whips are noising now
The shepherd now is often seen
By warm banks oer his work to bend
Or oer a gate or stile to lean
Chattering to a passing friend
Odd hive bees fancying winter oer
And dreaming in their combs of spring
Creeps on the slab beside their door
And strokes its legs upon its wing
While wild ones half asleep are humming
Round snowdrop bells a feeble note
And pigions coo of summer coming
Picking their feathers on the cote
The barking dogs by lane and wood
Drive sheep afield from foddering ground
And eccho in her summer mood
Briskly mocks the cheery sound
The flocks as from a prison broke
Shake their wet fleeces in the sun
While following fast a misty smoke
Reeks from the moist grass as they run
Nor more behind his masters heels
The dog creeps oer his winter pace
But cocks his tail and oer the fields
Runs many a wild and random chase
Following in spite of chiding calls
The startld cat wi harmless glee
Scaring her up the weed green walls
Or mossy mottld apple tree
As crows from morning perches flye
He barks and follows them in vain
Een larks will catch his nimble eye
And off he starts and barks again
Wi breathless haste and blinded guess
Oft following where the hare hath gone
Forgetting in his joys excess
His frolic puppy days are done
The gossips saunter in the sun
As at the spring from door to door
Of matters in the village done
And secret newsings mutterd oer
Young girls when they each other meet
Will stand their tales of love to tell
While going on errands down the street
Or fetching water from the well
A calm of pleasure listens round
And almost whispers winter bye
While fancy dreams of summer sounds
And quiet rapture fills the eye
The sun beams on the hedges lye
The south wind murmurs summer soft
And maids hang out white cloaths to dry
Around the eldern skirted croft
Each barns green thatch reeks in the sun
Its mate the happy sparrow calls
And as nest building spring begun
Peeps in the holes about the walls
The wren a sunny side the stack
Wi short tail ever on the strunt
Cockd gadding up above his back
Again for dancing gnats will hunt
The gladdend swine bolt from the sty
And round the yard in freedom run
Or stretching in their slumbers lye
Beside the cottage in the sun
The young horse whinneys to its mate
And sickens from the threshers door
Rubbing the straw yards banded gate
Longing for freedom on the moor
Hens leave their roosts wi cackling calls
To see the barn door free from snow
And cocks flye up the mossy walls
To clap their spangld wings and crow
About the steeples sunny top
The jackdaw flocks resemble spring
And in the stone archd windows pop
Wi summer noise and wanton wing
The small birds think their wants are oer
To see the snow hills fret again
And from the barns chaff litterd door
Betake them to the greening plain
The woodmans robin startles coy
Nor longer at his elbow comes
To peck wi hungers eager joy
Mong mossy stulps the litterd crumbs
Neath hedge and walls that screen the wind
The gnats for play will Hock together
And een poor flyes odd hopes will find
To venture in the mocking weather
From out their hiding holes again
Wi feeble pace they often creep
Along the sun warmd window pane
Like dreaming things that walk in sleep
The mavis thrush wi wild delight
Upon the orchards dripping tree
Mutters to see the day so bright
Spring scraps of young hopes poesy
And oft dame stops her burring wheel
To hear the robins note once more
That tutles while he pecks his meal
From sweet briar hips beside the door
The hedghog from its hollow root
Sees the wood moss clear of snow
And hunts each hedge for fallen fruit
Crab hip and winter bitten sloe
And oft when checkd by sudden fears
As shepherd dog his haunt espies
He rolls up in a ball of spears
And all his barking rage defies
Thus nature of the spring will dream
While south winds thaw but soon again
Frost breaths upon the stiffening stream
And numbs it into ice-the plain
Soon wears its merry garb of white
And icicles that fret at noon
Will eke their icy tails at night
Beneath the chilly stars and moon
Nature soon sickens of her joys
And all is sad and dumb again
Save merry shouts of sliding boys
About the frozen furrowd plain
The foddering boy forgets his song
And silent goes wi folded arms
And croodling shepherds bend along
Crouching to the whizzing storms
February Poems That Rhyme
Add a playful touch to your February poetry with poems about February with rhyming words that celebrate the rhythms and sounds of the nascent signs of spring.
1. I’m Not Just February
by Annette Wynne
I’m not just February
With winds that blow
All day, and piled-up snow;
I’m Washington and Lincoln, too,
Who kept our country’s flag for you!
I’m Valentine of airy grace—
With golden hearts and hearts of lace
And pretty cards that people send,
Quite as a secret, to a friend.
Though I am short of days and small,
I’m quite a big month, after all!
by James Berry Bensel
Around, above the world of snow
The light-heeled breezes breathe and blow;
Now here, now there, they whirl the flakes,
And whistle through the sun-dried brakes,
Then, growing faint, in silence fall
Against the keyhole in the hall.
Then dusky twilight spreads around,
The last soft snowflake seeks the ground,
And through unshaded window-panes
The lamp-rays strike across the plains,
While now and then a shadow tall
Is thrown upon the white washed wall.
The hoar-frost crackles on the trees,
The rattling brook begins to freeze,
The well-sweep glistens in the light
As if with dust of diamonds bright;
And speeding o’er the crusted snow
A few swift-footed rabbits go.
Then the night-silence, long and deep,
When weary eyes close fast in sleep;
The hush of Nature’s breath, until
The cock crows loud upon the hill;
And shortly through the eastern haze
The red sun sets the sky ablaze.
3. In February
by John Addington Symonds
The birds have been singing to-day
And saying: “The spring is near!
The sun is as warm as in May,
And the deep blue heavens are clear.”
The little bird on the boughs
Of the sombre snow-laden pine
Thinks: “Where shall I build me my house,
And how shall I make it fine?
“For the season of snow is past;
The mild south wind is on high;
And the scent of the spring is cast
From his wing as he hurries by.”
The little birds twitter and cheep
To their loves on the leafless larch:
But seven foot deep the snow-wreaths sleep,
And the year hath not worn to March.
February Poems for Kids
Get young imaginations fired up with fun and engaging February poems that capture the magic and wonder of the season.
1. February’s Trick
by Lenore Hetrick
The little buds on the trees awakened,
And shook their drowsy heads,
The little buds pulled the covers down,
And climbed out from their beds.
A soft breeze told them winter had gone
Many long miles away,
And the little buds were eager to see
Their first bright springtime day.
But alas! In half an hour there came
A wind so bitter cold!
The little buds were terrified
For they were just one day old!
They didn’t know what in the world to do!
Their little noses were red.
Each bud with a cry turned swiftly back,
And hopped into its bed.
You see it was not spring at all!
February was there,
And sometimes February slyly
Lays a foxy snare.
He had sent this lovely springtime breeze
To hang around and sing,
And make the buds think that it was
The first day of spring.
Then when the buds had all come out,
He nipped each little nose,
And sent the little buds back to bed,
Each one red as a rose!
2. February’s Last Gift
by Lenore Hetrick
February, you’re sometimes cold,
And sometimes quite unsettled.
If one is making plans indeed,
One often feels quite nettled.
You upset everything, it seems,
With all your rain and snow,
With all your sleet and all your ice,
A person cannot know.
But one thing we are certain of,
Dear month of oddest mood,
You bring us lovely holidays,
So we will not be rude,
You bring us Washington’s birthday,
You bring us Lincoln’s too,
You give us good St. Valentine’s –
What more could one month do?
So we will smile when you get mixed
With snow and rain together.
We’ll simply wink and laugh and say,
“It’s February weather!”
And when the cold sleet turns to ice –
And down we slip and fall!
We’ll laugh again and shout were glad
You’ve come to make a call!
3. February Twilight
by Sara Teasdale
I stood beside a hill
Smooth with new-laid snow,
A single star looked out
From the cold evening glow.
There was no other creature
That saw what I could see—
I stood and watched the evening star
As long as it watched me.
4. February Promises
by Lenore Hetrick
I like February for the
Hints that winter is going away.
He seems to whisper in my ear
That soon the birds will sing and play!
He tells me to get ready
For warmer days are on the way.
5. February’s Mood
by Lenore Hetrick
Old February can’t decide
Just what he wants to do.
Most of the time he’s raining, but
There’s snow and blizzards, too.
Sometimes he’s cold and very nasty,
Then he gets so mild!
And gentle tears come trickling down,
Quite pleasing to a child.
Guess old February can’t
Be helped in any way.
We’ll just put up with his wild moods-
And cheer when he goes away!
February Poems about Love
From the romance of Valentine’s Day to the deeper emotions of longing and loss, February love poems offer a heartfelt way to explore the complexities of the human heart.
1. Oh, My Darling Valentine
February is a short month
28 days or 29
In the middle is a love-day,
Won’t you be my Valentine?
Oh, my darling
Oh, my darling
Oh, my darling Valentine.
In the middle is alove-day,
Won’t you be my Valentine?
2. Happy February
by Myra Lochner
In the month of February,
I choose to be happy –
wishing all lovers a forever
sans a door slammed “never”.
3. February & My Love is in Another State
by José Olivarez
so when i walk down the street, i hold hands
with the wind. there’s a chimney coughing
up ahead & a sky so honey, i could almost taste it.
a cat struts away from me & two yellow eyes
become four: just like that,
i’m the loneliest creature on this block.
soon the streetlights will come alive
& television sets will light up with blues.
stay with me. while the sky is still golden,
hold the ladder so i can climb, & from
the highest rung, i can scrape away a drizzle
of light to wear around my neck. alone
is the star i follow. in love & in solitude:
alone is the home with the warmest glow.
4. Valentine’s Day
by Bijay Kant Dubey
The love poems
Written as love letters
In red ink
On 14 February
5. The Love You Bring
to me its everything–
the love you bring.
it’s the light of my life
it fills me with happiness
and makes me feel whole.
your love is the one thing
that i can always rely on,
it’s the one thing that
makes me feel better
when everything else
seems to go wrong.
the love you bring
is so divine
it comes to me like the sun in the sky
i can’t help but feel its warmth
and light; it fills my heart and
makes everything right–
the love you bring.
with your love, i can conquer any fear
and face whatever life throws my way,
there’s nothing that
i can’t do or be,
it’s all because of the love you bring.
6. February 14th
the taste of chocolate fades
from the tips of your tongue,
my love for you
would still be around.
long after picked red roses
wither and die
my love for you
will still be alive.
this love will continue
to withstand the test of
arguments and disagreements.
this love will continue
to fight through tough days,
and tough years.
this love has staying power!
long after scented candles
burn out this love
will continue to shine brightly.
7. Candlelight and Fine Wine
candlelight and fine wine
make the night divine.
the mellow and smooth nature
complement each other
like two lovers
under the moonlight sky.
the candle flame loves to flicker
and dance, reflecting off the wine glass,
they are like two lovers
enjoying each other’s company.
8. Sunshine Belt Machine
by Sophie Robinson
happy valentines i am not
at my jazziest matching sweat
shirt hair in a cheerful pony so dirty
it would stay up by itself “i hope
you’re as good at sucking dick
as you are at being lonely” unknown
quantity of poems inside me unknown
quantity of living moments moon’s outside
almost full blood on my pillow
never these days
i take care of myself okay
like a baby something
like a mama something
& my eyes
dressed like candy
big as the moon
& it’s fine to be full
of pretty much anything
just for a while i love life i love being
alive one day after another
forever. what’s next.
February Poems about Weather
From the icy chill of snowstorms to the gentle warmth of sun-drenched days, poems about February weather capture the wide range of moods and emotions that define the season.
1. February Weather
by C Richard Miles
February sulks its shadow
Over moorland, marsh and meadow.
Dreary drizzle unabating,
Then there’s weather worse awaiting:
Fog and frost and soft snow drifted
Deep in heaps that can’t be shifted,
Rain that pours for hours and hours
Putting paid to plants and flowers,
Howling wind and gusting gale,
Slushy sleet and hammering hail.
Hopefully this woeful weather
Has to pass, not last forever.
On a brighter note, a thought:
Just be thankful February’s short.
by Margaret Atwood
Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am
He’ll think of something. He settles
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
and your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase.
Make it be spring.
by George Walter Thornbury
The time when skies are free from cloud,
Though still the robin whistles loud
In the bare garden croft,
The catkin, on the hazel tree,
Mistakes for summer flower the bee,
And round it hovers oft.
Winter’s last sigh, from frozen north,
Withers the flower that ventures forth;
And there is wanting still
The unseen warmth, the mellow note
Of the wild bird with dappled coat,
Though faster flows the rill.
When, from his winter home, the snake
Creeps stealthy through the withered brake,
And thoughtless of the past,
The young leaves open overhead,
Though still their fathers, sere and dead,
Are hurried by the blast.
4. February’s Last Gift
Tonight, snowflakes will blanket a frozen ground.
The sky, turned gray, will offer the cut of a howling wind.
A quilt of silence will cover the typically boisterous downtown.
And inside, your hands will blanket my softened skin.
Your whiskey will offer the cut of a fiery pour.
An echo of moaning will reverberate down the hall.
February’s Last Gift.
by Jack Collom
It is all kind of lovely that I know
what I attend here now the maturity of snow
has settled around forming a sort of time
pushing that other over either horizon and all is mine
in any colors to be chosen and
everything is cold and nothing is totally frozen
the primary rough
erosion of what white fat it will occur
stiff yellows O beautiful beautifully austere
be gotten down to, that much rash and achievement that
would promote to, but
now I know my own red
network electrifying this welcome annual hush.
February poems are a wonderful way to eulogize the nascent signs of spring and the many themes and emotions that define this complex and captivating month.
From funny and playful to deep and contemplative, February poems offer a creative and engaging way to express ourselves and connect with others.
Whether you’re a seasoned poet or a first-time writer, the rich tapestry of February imagery and symbolism offer endless inspiration for exploring the wonders and complexities of the human experience.
So embrace the spirit of the season and let these poems about February help you tap into the timeless themes of growth, renewal, love, and hope.