chilly gray day
heavy clouds hang
soft drops splash
as they hit the pane
fire crackles in its place
fragrant tea steams my face
candles flicker as they flame
a good book stories fortune and fame
cuddled up in flannel and down
the music of nature the only sound
cinnamon spices scent the air
warm and dry the only care
its the season of quiet and calm
the twilight before the night
descending into winters dawn
and the festivals of light
~ copyright 11/2006~
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