Winter Time
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Did you have a good time? Did you enjoy this post? Let me know and leave a comment. Share the post with your family and friends on your favorite social media or subscribe with an email address and help other people to discover Don’t Make Me Call My Flying Monkeys, that will help our little blog grow and our monkeys can keep doing what they do best - FLY. Thank you for all of your support. The Monkey Queen
No comments:
Post a Comment