The frost was so crisp this morning beneath my booted feet
The logs we’d cut were by the barn and stacked up kind of neat
It’s Christmas in a week or so and weather’s getting cold
I used to not mind quite so much but now I’m getting old.
The warm familiar baking smells flow through the room anew
A fire crackles in the hearth as sunset bids adieu
I always love this time of year, the cosy feel within
And watching through the window for the snowfall to begin.