In The Cold Of Winter

The winter’s so bitterly cold
That as my bones begin to ache
I feel as though I’m getting old
While Jack Frost paints pictures
On my window pane.

Then I lie back and close my eyes
And try to imagine the springtime
With grass so green
Apple blossoms on the trees
And flowers shooting through
The once frozen ground.

Only then can I abide
This frozen land of ice and snow
That I know with time
Will turn into the glory of spring.