Jingle Bell

Sand not born of land
Dust suspend without trust
Snow might have overran the wind
Or the wind has frozen to powder

Clouds blow
Clouds wave
Knaves dancing
Dances of the saved
The wind sings earnest lullabies

Winter is here
A wonderland
In the air.
The aches can mend
A few tears to spare.
Can’t you hear? The jingles are near.

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

Write your email!

Recent post
%d bloggers like this: