Blowing brisk November winds
sing through naked tendrils
While billowing darkened clouds
piled high alike these hills.
Played hide and seek with the sun
who cannot share his warmth
and furred dwellers rush and run
to hide their food at hearth.

Leaves whisp about in winds
now lost from those tendrils
and we see shapes in the clouds
as they race over hills.
All creatures wish for more sun
so they could feel its warmth
but now we hasten and run
for comfort at our hearth.

Winds singing through the tendrils
while clouds race over the hills
without the sun for our warmth
we run to feel our hearth.