What? Light through yonder

Window breaks? I guess that makes 

It quarter to eight.

Dark winter teatimes

They love the most for hot baked

Beans on buttered toast.

Warm inn, cold out, sup

Beer, say nowt, drink up, turn, go,

Lift latch, tramp through snow.

By Jove, a wood stove!

Load it, light it, shut the door

Orange flames, warm roar.

White field. Pink grey sky.

Stillest, starkest, featureless,

Fathomless silence.

A great warmth pervades

My life these days.  I’m so pleased

I got double glazed.