Small Song for the Sun [warm poetry in the times of snow]

Although the spring has far from begun,
I sing of the warmth of th'Goddess of the Sun.
I sing the light drapes that fall from her robe,
And into my room, like a wintry draught, probe.

Oh! Beauty of the beams that filtrate the cold!
The warmth of your touch, fervently behold;
Watch as comes alive the town of Peterborough,
While to the Earth die the drops of melted snow.

I praise you for holding the old tree's demise,
I hail you for the regained smiles in your guise.
I eulogize you for warming us to such a degree*,
That today I finally sit outside and have tea!


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* When I say 'a' degree, I mean it literally! It was one degree today and it felt warm!!