Your prompt today: hibernation.
It's been one of those days.
The grey, dark time of year,
Though not as long as it appears,
Is never welcome here.
Strong urges to go south,
To place sweet pastries in my mouth,
To stomp my feet and shout,
That is what winter brings,
Along with the deep blues it sings -
Such a miserable thing.
So I shall stay in bed,
With covers pulled up to my head,And 'till spring I'll play dead.