The curtains barely move,
Yet the cold draught in the room is too much bare,
So cold so that I don’t feel any hair!
The day outside is grey and dim
As if the clouds have decided to do so on a whim!
My shivering hands reach for my coat,
As my doggie dearest sleeps as if a quivering goat.
These winters days are days I dread,
But I have to earn my bread!
So I set out, overstuffed and ear muffed,
Hands in glove, the winter winds seem chuffed.
Blowing my hair in my face,
Turning me into a hopeless case,
Up above, the ominous clouds
Sure do winter proud!
But winds of change were about to come,
As the noon sun thawed my bones numb.
Then the grey clouds ran for shelter,
Their silent chattering aloud, they ran
The mighty sun made an appearance,
And the clouds made haste for disappearance!
My unsettled heart stood still,
Bathing in sunlight gave me quite a thrill!