December finds himself again a child even as he under goes his age. Cold and early darkness now descends, embracing sanctuaries of delights. More and more he stares into the night, becoming less and less concerned with ends, emblem of the innocent as sage restored to wonder by what he must yield.
~Nicholas Gordon~
This is what I have heard at last the wind in December lashing the old trees with rain unseen rain racing along the tiles under the moon wind rising and falling wind with many clouds trees in the night wind. ~ W. S, Merwin ~
"I heard a bird sing in the dark of December a magical thing and sweet to remember. "We are nearer to spring then we were in September; I heard a bird sing in the dark of December."
~ Oliver Herford~
1 comment:
Happy December, dearest Madeline!
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