WAITING THE COLD SPRING
UNDER THE RAINING TREE
WILL BE MY LOVE
WAITING FOR ME
STANDING IN THE DAWN LIGHT
SHAKING IN THE COLD
WILL BE MY LOVE
FOR ME TO HOLD


THIS MORNIG I AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF LIGHT BIRD TWEEKS AND THE SMELL OF HONEY ON WARM TOAST THE WARM RAYS OF SUN FELL GENTLY THROUGH MY WINDOS ONTO MY FACE AND THROUGH THE WINDOW A LIGHT MIST WAS FAIDING AND I FELT READY TO EMBRACE THE DAY.

IF ONLY I HADENT BEEN DREAMING

I ACTUALY AROSE THIS MORNING IN PAIN FROM THE PREVIOS DAYS EVENTS AND FELT A COLD CHILL IN THE AIR. IT FINALY FEELS LIKE WINTER IS HERE. GOOD OLD BRITISH WINTER... WHERE IT RAINS CONSTANTLY AND THE SKY IS GREY NO SMELL OF TOAST WAFTED UP THE STAIRS JUST THE SMELL OF BEER AND SMOKE. MY HEAD STICKALY LIFTED FROM THE PILLOW AS I WAS READDY... TO SINK INTO A NICE HOT BATH AND DRIFED BACK INTO MY SCILENT SLUMBER.