When it's December out, and the wind is cold,
Inside my blankets, myself I'll fold.
When the miserable drizzle, falls without,
My face sports a grimace and a pout.
Snug in my bed, dreaming of summertime,
Thinking that winter, should be made a crime.
Enjoying hot cocoa, with marshmallows afloat,
On a sea of brown, like miniature boats.
Yet nothing makes me blue, like a cold December day,
What I wouldn't give, just for one golden ray.
12/27/13 Alton Texas
I hate Winter too Juan - lets hope there will be many golden rays coming soon. Great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I do so understand, and fully agree with. You've been readin my mail as they say! I'm quite sure you speak for many with these wintery-words...