Bad days aside I've decided to put up another poem in recognition of the...winter holidays.


Sipping hot chocolate upon my velvet chair
Staring so happily outside of my warm abode
Clear as day is snow falling through the air
And so lucky am I to be quite bestowed
As the season does call for blankets of snow
But sometimes you will find there are houses aglow
Even when dreams of the purest white
Are not fulfilled almost seeming in spite.

You can leave it a day for those divine
Or perhaps a day for the poorest to dine
As good spirits are brought not only in wine
But also in souls that cheerfully shine.

Tis' not a day for the richest to smile
Not a day for the snow to fall
Not a day to burn your wooden pile
Not even is it a day to tear down your wall
Thinking clearly as ever I state this in truth:
Tis' but a winter's day we find so unique
As the wind blows as it did in youth
But hidden--a crisp hint of something bleak.

Dream a dream as dreams dare only lie when you claim no truth;
Dream another winter's day
As sorrow is hardly lost, but rather found
As time does pass
And the wind does dare to blow if only you claim no truth.