Friday, November 18, 2011

First chills of winter

The air is crisp
With mounting cold
And temperature descend

The wifts of snow
The hidden sun
With temporary end

The barren trees
devoid of leaves
naked bare alone

Sit in guarded house
Im here
Warmed in heated home

The people all
Bundled with clothes
Features hidden hats

Protect from chills
And save from frost
New memories to last


The walks in cool
Morning air
No strain breath it heaves

With purity
And silence pure
Treading on dead leaves

The majesty
Of it all
Shows purpose so divine

Creator dear
His work so good
So deep and so sublime

The cool it does not bother me
Surrender to his will
Natural progress true it is
Glory lingers still

The spring it is
Not so far
Waiting for rebirth

This life of patience
Self imposed
With him return to mirth

Rejoice in his
Power so great
Of which none compare

Oh dear God
Teach me some more
Its we who are the bare

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