By enduring the icy chill outside,
My hands are bare and cold.
I yearn for that little sunshine
With shades of yellow and gold.
As winter lays lousy layers of laziness,
A little sunshine is a treasure –
The only one I can find in the open,
The only one with no measure.
As winters lie ahead, cold and unforgiving,
The sunshine lays a hand of motherly touch.
And even though my eyes crinkle as I look up,
I don’t mind this sunshine much!