hues of december blues
The weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
December has coolly strode into my schedule, and though soft white snowflakes dance in lazy circles outside my window, I must remain by my table and my textbooks. Multi-coloured pens are thrown carelessly on the table like a pile of pick-up sticks. Papers lie haphazardly. I curl quietly in my chair, a blanket and a coat wrapped up to my neck, and I study.
The lamplight sluices across my notes and makes the ink shine like rainbows. I annotate fanatically, comprehension leaking up my hands like the damp cold outside. I turn the last page of the book, and finally allow myself to pause.
My fingers find their way to my cup of tea, and I am warm.
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
December has coolly strode into my schedule, and though soft white snowflakes dance in lazy circles outside my window, I must remain by my table and my textbooks. Multi-coloured pens are thrown carelessly on the table like a pile of pick-up sticks. Papers lie haphazardly. I curl quietly in my chair, a blanket and a coat wrapped up to my neck, and I study.
The lamplight sluices across my notes and makes the ink shine like rainbows. I annotate fanatically, comprehension leaking up my hands like the damp cold outside. I turn the last page of the book, and finally allow myself to pause.
My fingers find their way to my cup of tea, and I am warm.