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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
What is your favourite thing to do in the winter?
It is winter in my country (England) now, so I thought I would ask about what your favourite thing to do was.
Here, I enjoy it when we get snow, as I am able to go out for walks and leave my footprints in the snow, and this is something that I enjoy a lot.
What about you? Are you the type of person who likes to be out in the cold, or do you prefer to sit by the fire and stay warm?