How can I tell them about the cold?
Here, such a penchant for rain
we have,
and such an unhealthy love of snow
we have,
We have hopes
made of steel and icicles.
And it’s strange—
Hey, here’s something cold and gray:
night falling, snow falling, eyes falling
asleep,
eyelids like a sagging roof,
and me like a crooked bend
in the highway.
And it’s strange—
But don’t you think it’s strange?
Oh, don’t wake me
from the cold and the snow and the rain.
I watched the moon. I watched it wax and wane
I watched it take on different shapes.
I watched it thin, I watched it grow,
and somehow it felt good to know
Every night is not the same.
The weather and the seasons change.
They measure the tides that go in and out
they know how to predict the clouds.
There are scientific names for phases,
a term for each way the moon looks and changes.
They name the waters, they name the stars
they view the world from inside their cars.
Spring spring ye spring is here
flowers blowming
grass a greening
in the misty air.
summer summer love the summer for it is here
people swimin'
the sun gleemin'
oh how we love ye summer
fall fall ye fall is here
the trees are bare
crispy air
in this season fall
winter winter ye winter is here
snowballs,snowmen santa claus too
its a jolly seson it is true
when Jesus Christ was born in a manger
yes this seson is no stranger
I write to confuse you through a mix of feelings
Time fly's by
like a bird in the sky.
Before there was Darkness
Now friendship and happiness.
Clear is the sky , But the summer will pass
Winter will come with its cold glass.
The rain Drive
The sky will pour
But I Will be your Friend
Forevermore!
The glass of spring was brightly shining
When laughing flowers
Were twining about it,
And the grass grew tall
In the rippling wind.
The glass of summer was standing nigh
When blue cold waters
Were dancing inside,
And the moss did climb
In the golden sun.
The glass of autumn was burnishing bronze
When frolicking leaves
Were swinging in air,
And the trees did lean
In the chilling breeze.
How often do the seasons pass?
How often do the leaves float by?
Do you ever wonder why?
How often do the years go?
How often does the snow fly?
How often do the breezes blow?
Do you ever wonder why?
How come everything must change?
Everything must take its place
Everyone must run the race
Everyone will see God face to face
Forever the years keep going
Forever the wind keeps blowing
Glory, glory, glory to my king
Glory, glory, glory to my Lord Everlasting
Don’t you think this life is strange?
When the spring rain comes
crashing down
when the summer wind
blows through my hair
when the autumn leaves
fall to the ground
and the winter snow
blows through the trees
grace comes upon me,
and I thank God.
Blissfully blooming beauty sprung
Budding, arraying colours gay
Pussy willows, daisies, daffodils
Mingling fresh breath of trees
Cheerfully notes of birds fly
Amongst Mary’s eyes blue sky
Light pouring forth in great measure
In grass yellow-green with colour
Amongst the basin of watery blue
Wispy white brushstrokes flee
Droplets, sparkling, pearly rain
The whistling of wind whirls round
Blustering, fluttering shadows
Swaying, tilting boughs
Bending, leaning blades
Flying, swirling leaves
home is a hard thing
to find
a soft place
to fall into
a dream
like a cloud in the sky
white on blue
where the sun shines through
to my heart
as it winds its way
over the landscape
of this sojourn
unwinds its strings
seventy times seven
moves on again
driven to a
home, a safe place
to land
a promise
of belonging
to give you a name
and a strength at your back
like the wind
on the mountaintop
drives you until
you fall into that place