December
Fields lie fallow under faded skies
And fallen now the dying leaves
Where full-blown flowers’ glory forgotten lies
And summer swallows are long flown from the eaves.
Winter’s finger touches the air with chill
And rimes the meadows with morning frost.
Darkness steals daylight long evenings to fill –
With ebbing light now life seems lost.
And yet there is life in the midst of the dying,
For Spring throbs beneath the snow-covered earth
The embers of hope are death-defying –
In the stillness of Winter comes the Lord of Life’s birth.
© Helen M Seeley
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