Yesterdays before the morrow,
silk worm spinning ere the silk;
born the prophet, ever questioned,
gone to curd, the long churned milk.

Dogs a’ begging at the table,
storm approaching from the west;
wild, the winds of cold December,
deeper snows than ever guessed.

Birds all flock the backyard feeder,
windows steamed of bubbling stew;
cheerful Christmas carols jingle,
chores completed, naught to do.

Fireplace crackles, embers popping,
pathway shoveled, fingers nipped;
old hound curled beside his friend,
brandy warmed and slowly sipped.

Feet propped up and head a’ nodding,
Butterflies flit ‘round bright flowers;
Dreams of springtime bring a smile,
While away the winter’s hours.