The chill of winter scratches at the door like a lonely stray.
A warm fire stirs in the fire place taunting the cold beyond.
I sit in the middle, warmed in the temperate space.
I find comfort and solice in the middle of thier war.
The chill of night and the fires light, dance around me.
A divine tango of two extremes, thier dance surrounds my home.
The smells of the season linger in the air, Cinnamon, spice, and evergreen.
The yuletide season sings.

Happy Holidays Everyone.