Winter at my Doors

I can feel the rhythm of the air.

Your cold breath brushed past my hair.

My bare feet wanted to dance to the cold melody and the hot flare.

With the hot coffee mug in my hand, I started to rejoice in a deeper prayer.

Hey Sweety, winters are at your doors.

I am here to huff and puff cold to your corridors.

You needn't hurry. I am here to slow down your motion and increase your chores.

I know that this is harsh but, I am quite a candor.

Oh, my dear winter.

I am the only one who can sense you better.

I knew you were roaming here as I was suffering from a cold right after dinner.

It took turmeric milk and ginger mugs to put me out of danger.

Oh, my friend, I am sorry I made you feel ill.

But you could've eased up the pain by taking a pill.

I know that you were looking up for me to chat from the window sill.

Well, I was a little busy helping Mr. Lander runs his windmills.

Oh my winter, Don't say that.

I always want your touch on my drinks and desserts during the parties in my flat.

During the summers, you are my cozy little pussy cat.

During your reign, I end up gluing my head to a hat.

I can feel the rhythm of the air.

Your cold breath brushed past my hair.

My bare feet wanted to dance to the cold melody and the hot flare.

With the hot coffee cup in my hand that cools down as I stare.