These are the days of regret
The already here but not yet
When the sun has not even set
And there is work to be done.
These days slip into those days
The gloss of time is kind
Surprised by the peace and acceptance
The place of eternity finds.
---
This morning there was arctic ice
Floating in the sky
Bits and flecks and windblown drifts
Stretched from mile to miles
---
The tiny babe is stuck in his cradle
We won't let him out
Since he is so meek and mild
He's sure not to shout
Let wise men worship
And skeptics doubt
There's no reason to worry
Or be down in the mouth
Just a baby
In a manger.
---
I bought Christmas
I found it on sale
For the economic uplift
Keeping bankers from jail.
No comments:
Post a Comment