It’s happening again, the kind of weather I`ve been waiting for…
the smell of winter and warm hug of dark, cold and comforting nights is my favorite time of the year.
November comes and November goes, with the last red berries and the first white snows.
with night coming early, and the dawn coming late., and ice in the bucket and frost by the gate.
the fires burn and the kettles, sing, and earth sinks to real until next spring.
a little warmth for you, and may this November be gentle with you..
hope you like the poem
♡
