Saturday, September 20, 2008

January
In the days of black and white
The land is cold and icy.
Sun shimmers down on icy ground
Laughter lingers—I love the sound
The crisp cold air smells spicy.

In the days of black and white
We hear no blue birds sing
Through frost and snow our spirits flow
and keep the joy of hope aglow
To wait the warmth of spring

wendy

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