A Winter Night

Softly still the snow is falling,
To the quiet world below,
Muffled in its veil of crystals,
Blown in cold wind to and fro.
Through the shifting, cloudy blanket,
That covers up the dark night sky,
A flash, a twinkle, I see the radience,
Glittering from the stars on high.
Spears of moonlight rain down to me,
Shattering o'er the frosted earth,
I wonder if each were a diamond,
Could we even price their worth?
Softly still now I am walking,
Through this quiet winter scene,
While frosted breath floats to the heav'ns,
My thoughts rise up unto my King.

The Traveling Salesman

"Drink a drop of life today,
Drink a drop and live,
Seen things never seen before,
See things that are hid,"
That's what the salesman calls aloud,
Holding out his wares,
Inviting in the interested,
And all the curious stares.
"Sir," said he, "I ask of you,
Can you harness the strength of giants?
For what's the use of hidden means,
And is your shoe leather pliant?
And madam, surely you could use,
A jar of beauty cream?
It smoothes out wrinkles, spots, and scars,
It's every woman's dream."
So on and on the salesman went,
Peddling here and there,
Shoes and rope, and other things,
And ribbons for pretty girls' hair.
I simply smiled and walked on by,
Though he called twice to 'stop',
For I was drinking a bottle of life that day,
Each smile another drop.

A Distinction

Life is made of minutes,
And days, and hours, and years,
But all is simply seconds,
That soon will disappear.
Yet something I have noticed,
Perhaps you've noticed as well?
Is that seconds are not most important,
They are not where our memories dwell.
The time wasn't measured in seconds,
When your baby brother was born,
Or when you went to your Mother,
In the midst of the raging storm.
It wasn't the seconds that counted,
When you were fishing down by the lake,
With Grandpa casting your line out,
While Dad took a coffee break.
No, it wasn't the seconds that mattered,
But the moments, wherein they lay,
So don't forget to take time
To live in the moment each day.

Autumn is Coming

Can you see the gilded cloak,
As lazy summer's spell is broke?
It flashes red, and gold, and brown,
o'er valley and the tall tree's crown.
A flash of white as bounding deer,
Run through thickets and disappear.
The placid blue of silent lake,
The silver flash the fish do make.
A chocolate blur of little squirrel's hide,
Gathering food for winter-tide.
Or perhaps you smell the crisping air?
Or of ripening apples are aware?
The musty scent of falling leaves,
and the swaying of the gold wheat sheaves.
Autumn is coming, can you hear?
The wind is whistling far and near.
And through the wispy clouds on high,
The geese are flying, side by side,
Warning of the chill to come,
As they go to find the sun.
The crackling of the leaves below,
Soon to be muted by ice and snow.
The laughter of the children small,
As once again they greet the fall.