Memories, Like A Cold Winter's Rain
Why is it that my memories always seem to pour down, like a cold Winter's rain,
At this time of year, in a December's mix of weather, why is it so hard to explain?
The tree's decorated and there's mistletoe and holly hung up high over the door,
Christmas carols are ringing and children all singing, just who could want more?
Past Christmases, seem to flow faster still, as joy of each new one, gives such a thrill.
Those wrapped packages and surprises held inside, with ribbons and bows all applied,
The excitement that seems to hover about in the air, the thought of our loved ones there,
The reverence in each does always abide, cherishing thoughts of the Christ child, inside.
The quiet solitude now, of the snow falling down, to spread its white carpet, all over the town,
As evergreen trees collect the flakes in neat rows, a wonderland, it soon to us, bestows.
The little church, that sits preciously on the hill, its beautiful glass windows, a joy to instill,
The feelings of comfort enjoyed by us all, a warming contentment, while a strong wind blows.
The shared sense of brotherhood, love that's not spared,
shows us how much, our God cared,
When he sent his sweet son to Bethlehem town,
as the angels watched, their love to surrender,.
What greater gift and more value to find,
than this wonderful child, savior of all human kind,
As stars in the heavens, shined down in fine splendor,
upon this babe, so gentle and tender?
all rights reserved and copyrighted 2012
More by this Author
To my father and his loving care all of those years when I was young.
I write of the very special time at Christmas when my father and I went out into the country to find a cedar tree and what it meant to our entire family.
When will it be too late?