What I would give for a mug of mulled wine,
My fingertips feeling the warmth within.
What I would give to burn some gingerbread
Which will yet again end up in the bin.
What I would give to cosy up all day
And watch my most favourite festive flick.
What I would give for cinnamon candles;
I could, one by one, set alight each wick.
What I would give to not be freezing cold,
To be inside drinking a cup of tea.
Sadly, I’ve lost my key (that makes twice now)
And my dear, sweet Nan isn’t back ‘til three.
