A cold in all pervading tremors,
Comes burrows rooting winter's dreams,
Its sleepless thaw to smother day,
Night long into the dimmer morns.

Cotton shields for nibbling frost,
Scarves and hats to glove the head,
Wrap up warm and stay in bed,
Winter's now the daylight's lost.

I could walk by woods and through the bog,
And smell the rain drops in the fog,
But that's another day,
I could sit and ponder maths I'm taught,
My hand at pace at every thought,
But that's another day,
I could burn the midnight oil and wake,
And place within it, all my stakes,
But that's another day,
Not mine, but His to order: He knows time,
Far better than I know days my own.