As each Christmas gets closer to the last,
And the floor seems further away
When the future`s a fraction of the past,
And hopes and fears were yesterday.
Memories are all that`s left
Arm chair beside a friendly fire
Of ambition we become bereft,
And for ourselves - nought we desire
Except perhaps to see,
Our children`s. children`s children grow,
In love, peace and prosperity,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice flow and a lovely sentiment Archie. Season's Greetings, to you and yours. Danny