Home for Tea

Raven's Quill

The vagueness falls around a winter dawn
And frost is nipping at by boot clad feet
A golden hue; a glimpse of a sunbeam
With trees like sketches with a pencil drawn
Where the curling mist seems to gently greet
The dog and I out walking by the stream
In this wintery bliss where nothing grows
The chilling north wind still comes as it snows
We take our walk again into the morn
As coming home so cold and wet we see
Although we are weary, weathered and worn
Our cosy kitchen just for him and me
My dog and I will not be left forlorn
The fire is warm and there’s a pot of tea

© JG Farmer 2018
Form: Alfred Dorn Sonnet