“Winter Time” by Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

 

Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
   

   

Black are my steps on silver sod;

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

There is one week left until Christmas. I love this warm holiday in the cold winter.

 

Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, a Scottish novelist, poet, essayist, and travel writer.  He was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, died in 1894 aged 44, on Vailima, Samoa Islands. This rhyming poetry sounds like a classic winter tale.

 

Paintings by Nadezda

 

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