Tis a cold, grey, winter's day.
The sun's decided to stay away.
The cloud's have thought, we'll have a say.
It's bucketing down, so in bed I lay.

Bedding pulled up, warm and snug.
As cosy as,....       a bug in a rug.
My wife brings in, soup in a mug.
Feeling quite happy, to winter, I shrug.