Last night in November, one that I’d remember,
I lay in bed watching the stillness of the dark
That sits on the brink of December
Wishing for light from the one bearded in white and amber…
Winter winds whistling the sounds of joy and pain
Naked trees hoping for leaves to clothe them again
Some bleed, some feed,
Some to the slaughter, some filled with laughter
For after November comes that day in December
When the sparkling streets shall sing a song
The feet of smiling little children
Dancing to ho ho ho
No comments:
Post a Comment