Cold
in the morning,
Frost
on the ground,
Leaves
rustling softly,
Not
a soul around.
The
air is crisp,
The
sky is clear,
The
sun is rising,
But
the warmth is not yet here.
Wrapped
in my coat,
I
pull it tight,
Walking
through the city,
Everything
feels right.
The
cold may bite,
But
it's a welcome chill,
A
reminder of the beauty,
Of
winter's icy thrill.
So
let the morning be cold,
I'll
embrace it with glee,
For
there's nothing like the start,
Of
a fresh, cold morning, you'll see.
