Only the drippy grey, slow-melting days

Only the drippy grey, slow-melting days

give licence to stay inside.

Close the door, light the fire

and come, curl in under woollen blanket,

turn from windowpanes

open onto bleak snowscapes,

shutter the world away and escape

its bone-chilling dampness,

its tales of war and woe will wait;

settle fireside and drift, lazy,

on waves of mulling spices and storybooks.

Tonight’s sky streaked with sun’s fire,

and all the bright tomorrows,

will lay claim to you soon enough.

.

.

With thanks to Jennifer Knoblock for the possibly unintentional but very helpful prompt and opening line. You see, even those days can inspire!