The 'Cold' Cold

I lay upon the bed,
lying besides me piles of warmth
With hands so frozen, nose so red,
the winters approach again, reaching zenith

And with a hush from it's lips,
it covers everything up
in the blanket of white,
cottony balls covering the heads, of everything
that comes its way.

And once again there comes the time,
to wrap myself from head to toe,
and sip on warm coffee
and laze around, a lot to woe.

Silence, there's silence and darkness
that surrounds, the morn turns dawn,
the evening dark;
Flowers sleep, birds rest in warmth,
the poor strays, all wish for pity,
if only, it does them no harm

I feel I do not wish to get out of the coziness,
Yet does life stop to a standstill,
waiting for the end of the freezing cold?
Unfortunate truth is it,
and unwillingly, I have to get up,
In my memory the stray dog
who cannot even cover itself,
Who lives to the pity of Nature,

And I sit back to work,
Thinking, thinking again...
If only the bright sunshine appears again,
I promise not to curse it this time...