Write in gloves
Warm as toast my pinkies,
Better covered here than cold.
In blistering winds so bold,
Maybe it's time for drinkies.
A hot mug of tea to sip,
Could save the day at hand.
Where gloves still cover the demand,
To keep my pen held at the tip.
A land of endless skies I see,
Teasing the boy in me to run.
Skip, jump, play in heather, oh what fun,
Before I get too old to be.
Welcomed is the evening still,
Where I have caught a breath of him.
The loyal friend of time just in,
And days yet to come with ghostly chill.