Thursday, May 15, 2008

DECEMBER


My sweet December;

I wait for your arrival every year to come,

Anxiously and anticipating

The crisp air so dry it burns your trough,

The sky a doll grey it makes you want to sleep.

Cuddling next to the fire places;

A cup of cocoa on your hand,

How bitter sweet the memories of a forgotten winter,

A forgotten love once so dear to you

0 comments:

 

All Rights Reserved ChatterBoxMom dot Com Copyright 2008
Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape