понеделник, декември 25, 2006

неделя, декември 17, 2006

Winter poetry



It's hard to think of anything
But Christmas in December
There's so much to look forward to
And so much to remember.


I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,"
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.