A dusting of snow,
It's mighty cold!
The memories flow,
Your hand I hold,
The robin flies,
On fence he rests,
Time goes by,
Those days were best.
I was a child,
You were my king,
We walked the hills,
From winter to spring,
Those summer days seem far away,
And autumn will return again.
Memories of those seasons with you,
As fresh as the flowers touched by dew,
The snow still falls,
And with it brings,
Fond memories of you,
As the robin sings.
Jayne Louise Davies
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