Waking in the morning,
With the sun's soft, gentle glow,
Hues of lights adorning,
Upon the new winter snow.
I embrace the calming chill,
Christmas bells are chiming,
Going to the frosted hill,
Evergreens are priming.
The pining world now renewed,
The worn, weary soul is healed,
Burden lives of man are hewed,
Kindness, peace and love– revealed.
Reaching the foot of the hill,
Faint, merry songs can be heard,
Feeling boundless loving thrill,
This spirit can not be deferred.
Each step up the hill, with a crunch beneath my feet,
Lungs breathe in cold air and out gentle frozen mist,
Threads of hope woven into a grand, joyous meet,
All welcoming- leading me to warm my stiff fist.
Embering golden flames light up and heat the world,
The dancing lights gloss into twilight's faint shimmer,
The smells from the evergreen trees floated and whirled,
As the sun's golden light fades; becomes dimmer.
The moon rises; its radiant beams,
Makes the snow produce a calming light,
Flames are dwindling but growing are dreams,
One by one people left for the night.
Down from the silverlit tranquil mound,
With incomparable joy filed smile,
Still hearing- wonderful chorus sound,
All were united in Christmas style.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Dreams
PoetryThis is going to be a poem collection: some happy, some sad, and other to make you wonder. Each one has been rooted in some kind of dream I had or just a thought bubble I've been stuck on. Please give feedback, it would be the best way for me to imp...
