A blanket of mist covers the sky,
and no bird can be seen flying high.
The cold crisp air grows evermore dreary,
as we can only grow weary.
The suns warmth is draining,
the fog only gaining.
Staining the bright blue sky a deathly white
the sun now out of sight.
as we shiver in the air.
of this ever-growing night.

Never will my yella leather weather,
Not in any measure,
Whether the weather,
Whatever the pressure,
My yella leather fails to weather,
It was made by the yella leather fellers.

What's discipline?
It's walking on your own two feet,
It's taking movement into your own hands.

I will walk,
What if it's windy?
I will walk,
What if it's raining?
I will walk,
What if fire pours from the sky and the roads turn to ice?
I will walk.

The tears that uselessly fall will never drown you.
They will only be a little misfortune in your day.
A puddle amidst the rain.
Something to see around you. Something to be expected.
Only to be avoided or stepped on.
So forget about it. Let time pass.
Let the sun shine and evaporate it.
A new day has come, embrace it.

Leaden angry sky, why wear a sombre suit
dyed lantern grey to match the ocean’s roar
a shredded howling wind completes the set
it stings and sings a siren song outside my door,
be off, be off with you I say
go find a better attitude and temper
I do not like the mood you bring today

The wishes that the cold will falter
Has halted
My mouth is quivering
And my body is shivering
My nose is as red as a cherry
And my lips are forming into the color of a blueberry

The ice of the cold biting my skin
The heat in me quivering within
The cold slicing my flesh
The slices are still fresh
The 20°F weather isn't helping
Instead, it's making me continue yelping

Ugh... I just hope I won't get hypothermia...

Sticky summer evening,
Warm, young, beautiful.
Flitting throughout the night,
Bountiful bundles of fireflies.
Flickering in the breezes,
A soft golden mist.
New summer's evening,
Graced by the lightning bugs.

The weather is important when writing a play,
Such is when Romeo and Juliet was shown,
It was a cold and raining day.

So the audience would forget about the heat,
Off in fair Verona had Shakespeare failed,
To keep mention of the begrudging summer.

There is a face in the mist,
One that belongs not to me,
And it stares into my eyes,
Knowingly.
Tell me what you know!
For what have you come?
Why do you reach across the mists,
And stare?