Winter morning

Don't know why but everytime

I think of winter,

 how I hear bells chime,

Somewhere up there in hills,

Where once had we that feel

Of mist and dew and roads running quiet

All drenched by softest light,

And how we kept on walking through

The fog and foliage to get that view

Of the hills and their sun kissed peaks

How there once a sabbatical we did seek,

How that sojourn and many more after

With a feeling of warmth comes winter,

A bit ascetic sometimes, the sombre gongs,

Sometimes colorful, with cakes and songs, 

How winter brings so many things

Pines, deodars and trees incense bearing.
( the painting attached for illustrative purpose is done by Mopasang Valath, an artist and landscape painter hailing from Kerala, India, who follows varied media, but mostly watercolor. This one is acrylic on canvas )