Segue

I've not much to write now, and not much to say,
But it seems that that last was quite full of dismay,
Which hardly seems fitting to lead to the next,
So here a short bridge of these few lines of text.

They serve no real purpose, except to provide,
A few rhyming stanzas that create a divide,
'Tween winter's lament, in its depth of despair,
And the spring on its way, with its breath of fresh air.

For here comes the sun, and with it the light,
That will glisten like diamonds and emeralds so bright.
And that is quite all that I've got now to say,
Until the next verse comes along on this way.