You can blow as much as you like, for you are out, and I am in. My bed has never felt so warm as when out my window your piles abound. And if I venture out into the cold, warm memories of winters past will give me cheer. For when weather turns, you must be out in it, before you can most enjoy being in out of it.
So no fear, you may blow as much as you like, for this boy, at least, is happy your here.
Yes, feel free to transform this lamp-lit landscape as much as you like. Stick to trees and bushes, and make them magical, happy ghosts of wintertime. The trees are sleeping, the grass grows no more, so hide them now in sparkling blankets. Set out your wares, millions of sparkling jewels, for the coming sun to light.
I will ask you to go, someday when spring should come. But today, today you may stay.
(Occasioned by a boyish excitement to see an old friend back again)
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