The hour is early, but the time feels late
Perhaps of life I have satiate
Sleep time comes for all that grows
Three months span beneath the snows
But of the life that will expand
See the branches much like your hand
Bud indeed by February or March
From the snows wet not parch
Although it seems that much has gone
Lo and behold, all will go on! ~ Arachne ~ November 28, 2008 @ 6:30 p.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment