Winter Morning Poem by Rod Morris

Frosty mornings, ice-armoured puddles, cobweb strung with beads of dew.
Reluctant folk beneath warm blankets, rugged up fighting off the flu.
Car roofs and windows glazed with ice, hard-hearted water in your hose.
Frozen fingers shortened tempers, cold that's reaching for your toes.
People roused from cozy beds, hide from a shivery breeze.
Cold is creeping, seeping, seeking, makes you want to cough and sneeze.
At last the sun has slipped from slumber, raised its head, shed its light.
Feel the warmth, forget your troubles; everything is now all right.