Days are short and nights are long,
We no longer sing the summer song.
As the nights draw in, log fires burning,,
Going out at night has lost it's yearning.
At home we can enjoy our meal,
Cooked in love, it has its appeal.
Both now sated, a glass of wine,
In front of the fire we rest supine.
The coldness of night,the warmth of day,
It is winter here and, each in its own way,
Is a Cyprus Delight.
© Dave Timperley 16/11/2018