William Myers 12.6.01

Yule

We were in the Yule,-
Our hair was done,-
The look was northward,
But heat began our body's ring,
His saving bell and holly's color
Dieing for adjacent berries
Acceptance at the end of time,
The manger gifts of foreign men
Laid no please his mother
By the camel's park
And humor at the pole.

We were inundating by the singing snow
That bestowed glee upon us to mistletoe
Another tree and rank the passing baskets
For the fruit we'd never eat
And oranges all for me,
That nobody had discovered
Bulging in the choir loft
And water's sanctuary
Making haste to sleigh the death that Santa's
Elves had stacked for music's sake,
Or e-mails for the south.

We cried his name is Jesus
The gift of Christmas last
And heading out to sea
When men were the entire west,
The likely for his promise
Skipping though our street,
For the package deals
Waiting underneath,
That he was looking hard
And all the best of me.

We were the falling snow incarnate
Into the our blessed day
The knot was tied and left,
The chosen path a ribbon to hang the waiting day
His own would leave for dead,
These shining eyes the window lights
That passing soldiers spied
On their way to next year
Looking for his mother
And Joseph's kids again:
We were the dawning day;

Now he is again.

Thank-you, and a merry . com o-matic: www tech chief ahead of time