The Church bells
whisper of
Christmases
past
present,
future.
We see them through eyes of love.
Beyond the glittering candle light
true hearts
beat in time
to the ancient carols
and all the while somewhere in the world
snowflakes fall to a silent wordless song.
The feast was made ready
while this heart dreamed
of things to come.
Over the days ,
coffee cup in hand I gazed out
the frosted window
away,
away to worlds far beyond
wondering how many before me had
sung the same melodious song
and dreamed the same girlish dreams?
There was only ever one
that listened to the song of my heart.
He showed me
how
to listen to the stillness that fell,
between the shining beats.
A very festive and beauteous season to all the silent footsteps
that walk this way.
May twenty thirteen be the year of dreams fulfilled for us all
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Pretty misty stars