Leaves with specs of gold
Gently dance above the earth,
The tree is now bare.
Jesus is the vine.
We are pruned by God to grow.
The branches bear fruit.
The Christmas season.
A kissing mistletoe glance.
Dancing and merry.
Lonely winter land.
Skiing with rain turned to slush,
Tears turned to sadness.
A warm sunny ray.
A thrill that lasts to the end.
Falling icicles.
Down my cheek, I knelt,
God was there to see me cry,
God saw tears of joy.
A gift box and rose.
Many finger prints of love
Seals an expression.
Morning Sunday mass,
Voices worshiping my God
Echoes long after.
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