Vermillion cinders spitting
Crackling scented bark
Hardly a sound in the room
And it is getting dark
The mid afternoon sun
Retired some minutes ago
Putting the spotlight on the moon
There are the first signs of a star
the onset of evening is too soon.
Outside the warped wooden door
Apple logs are piled high
The navy blue dappled with white
Looks acceptable in the sky.
Berries drape from hedges
Like grapes would from a vine
Wrapping themselves around twigs
Held by gardeners green string twine.
Now those berries are on a garland
Draped around the fireplace with spice
Pine cones, ivy and walnut shells
Makes it look and smell quite nice.
With a promise of snow this coming week
My cupboards stocked and there is no reason
Why I should not be happy and content in my heart
This coming yuletide season.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
Vermillion cinders spitting
Crackling scented bark
Hardly a sound in the room
And it is getting dark
The mid afternoon sun
Retired some minutes ago
Putting the spotlight on the moon
There are the first signs of a star
the onset of evening is too soon.
Outside the warped wooden door
Apple logs are piled high
The navy blue dappled with white
Looks acceptable in the sky.
Berries drape from hedges
Like grapes would from a vine
Wrapping themselves around twigs
Held by gardeners green string twine.
Now those berries are on a garland
Draped around the fireplace with spice
Pine cones, ivy and walnut shells
Makes it look and smell quite nice.
With a promise of snow this coming week
My cupboards stocked and there is no reason
Why I should not be happy and content in my heart
This coming yuletide season.