Winter

An icy blast through open door reminds me that he’s here once more. Through softly drifting snowflakes falling I hear the Old Man Winter’s calling. I’m not prepared for his arrival, my chores not done for my survival. As I go through my growing list, I hope there’s something I’ve not missed. Are there things that I forgot, important things I should have bought To tide me through his wintry chill ‘til Spring flirts with my windowsill? The list is endless or so it seems, it even haunts my restless dreams. It rolls relentless through my mind, as past mistakes my thoughts rewind And feast like hungry beasts unchained until my weary soul is drained And only then I’ll build a fire and to my comfy chair retire. The roaring fire does truly sing the tunes of what next Spring will bring. Content to know that all is well, by warming fire I’ll sit a spell And contemplate my growing list for Spring’s upcoming welcome bliss