Pouring rains batter the old window panes, howling winds rattle weathered wooden window frames, thoughtful moments over open flames, bottles of red wine flowing through my veins,

Dark grey skies and fleeting lanterns in the distance, smokey maple embers fill the room with warmth and reminisce, thick woolen blankets and open true crime books, candle lit dinners of hearty winter soups,

Winter, my love, to some you are nothing but cold, however to me your yearly visits warm my soul