POEMS & REFLECTIONS

The dreary land is grey and cold,
confined within the icy hold
of winter, like a prison cell,

The sky is a massive tarpaulin of grey,
lying sodden and heavy over the land.

When tyrannous destruction rages,
we search for solace that assuages,

She takes a breath and steps away from shadows that are dim and grey.

Find Him in a humble stable
born to challenge death and win.

They came to seek the hope of ages
prophesied by mystic sages.

The birds still sing though winter reigns.

With festive carols playing,
the windows are displaying . . .