Starting as it does, misted windows, still air,
Letting me know slowly quickening winter is there,
Feeling damp within warmed sheets, so clammy,
White outside, gloomy again, no blue sky!
Sluggishly shifting my aching body from rest,
Already tensing, ready for the daily stress!
Chilled embrace touching me to the very core,
As soon as my feet touch the thawing floor,
Naked days of strolling through to coffee,
Long gone now, as robe covers shoulders to knee,
Windows complaining at being oblique,
Condensation preventing me from a morning peak,
Unknowing of what now lays in glaring store,
Gifted to me from Mother from the night before,
Stark and brisk relief as burning liquid,
Awakens me, undoing what the sleep did!
Coldness seeping into my weary soul,
Shivering for a few seconds without control,
Like death has just danced upon my grave,
Reminding me that l am now a winter slave!
Showering, is only a deep felt bliss,
When the water has achieved its heated kiss,
Savouring the blasting scorching onto frozen skin,
Devouring it like lovers’ making love in sin!
Drying quickly before l start to freeze,
Swift sharp moves creating their own breeze,
Dressing is now an acquired art in itself,
Failure to achieve and you are an ice shelf!
Not easy attiring in three layers so damn fast!
In doing so however, my day will not be harassed,
By tiny pockets of gathered damp winds,
Whose wicked intentions are constantly biting in!
Finally boots on, and door opened, l am aghast!
Cutting winds tear into my face full blast!
Whisperings of ice and snow flake across bare skin,
Visibility through this torrent already slim,
Day is already threatening the wrenching hardships,
Trudging through last nights’ fall, heartbeats skip,
My chest tightens as it contracts with the chill,
‘Oh Joy’ is all can think, today is all uphill!
Working with stables and horses in the frozen fens,
In blistering cold winds, snow and ice again,
Not something missed during the summer climes,
But those months have passed for now its winter time!
For now we have rain, snow, ice and sludge,
All the niceties of the weather that create ones’ grudge!
Six months before l see the end of this cold death,
Miserable weather indeed is winters’ kiss, winters’ breath!
© Rory Matier 2010