Monday, December 29, 2014

Winter in Rochester

The days are cold
The nights are colder
The world is old
And it grows older
So everywhere
Is entropized
When all is bare
Then all hope dies.
But in the dark
And dank and dim
There is a spark
Of joy and vim
Beside me here
My loving dear.

Comfort and Joy

I must remember how these things have been;
To marvel at what has become routine
Recalling that I once could not begin
To truly hope for what's now daily seen
Or to imagine in reality
My present everyday. It is not right
To let these wonders fade invisibly
Into the background, like the clouds at night;
Instead I must, somewhere within my soul
Celebrate them each as they deserve
Remembering each several, separate goal
So even once achieved I can preserve
The joy of it, and each day wonder more
At all my blessings in their growing store.