Friday Poetry: Robert Louis Stevenson

Happy Friday!

I’ve been at school today but I have managed some lovely reading which has been very nice. I have also been rather busy with my Etsy business. The TBR Tickets are proving very popular!

My chosen today is by the Scottish novelist, essayist, poet and travel writer Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894).

Winter-Time

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 
A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,
At mourning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap; 
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose. 

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

Robert Louis Stevenson