Open Poetry #41 |
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It Is Here (previous was diffrent poem oops) |
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kudanesh Member
since 2007-12-01
Posts 135Peterborough,England |
The flowers that blume The flowers that grow All pritty colors Now coverd in snow The old brown shed My dads spade The wooden go kart My freind and I made All of the trees And houses alike Coverd with snow And tiny ice spicks So I rushed down stairs To put on my shoes Ruffly done up Thers no time to lose So I ran through the kitchin And out of the door Leaving my foot prints All over the floor What ever I did Were ever I go I left a small foot print Deep in the snow I'd go aroud Knocking on doors To get my friends out We'd make snowballs galor Our hands would get wet And the theyd get cold They'ed go bright red But we wouldent be told Wed run around shiveing Come in my mom cryed It was geting colder As the the fun died Then id go in So cold and all wet To the smell of hot food And a table all set For christmas dinner I couldent wait For all that food To be put on my plate But befor we eat We say a prayer For all of those With no god out there So we tuck in To all those nice things Like turky and patato Such joy it does brings Cos to day its his birthday And this is forgot For jesus our savoir He must have loved us alot To do what he did Would you do the same To clear up the world Could you take the pain Think of his mother What she went through Knowing her only son Was dieing for you So one christmas day If you belive it or not Say happy birthday jesus That would please him alot so he knows that we thanks him and hell know that hes not going to fade out or be forgot merry christmas to all that celibrate it and those that dont have a happy holiday |
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© Copyright 2007 Andrew Hull - All Rights Reserved | |||
Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Andrew, this is really very touching and beautiful. I love snow too and I remember doing the same things as you describe here. Merry Christmas to you too. I do love Jesus and He will not be forgotten, rest assured. Let us dream of a White Christmas then ... for some it will be reality. Love, Margherita ![]() |
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