Snowflakes fall like feathers of the wintertime
Angels call through whispers in the breezy nights
Comfort comes from the blankets held so tight
As your eyes grow heavy staring at the fire's light
Peacefulness in the morning's rising sunshine
Followed by the cherubs calling through bird chimes
The scent of breakfast wake you from the dreamy life
January Sunday mornings can be as slow as you like
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem has a fresh presence about it! ! ! ! keep it on! ! :)