There’s snow on your collar
And boy, there’s snow on the bench.
There’s snow on the sleeping grain
And the crooked fence.
And if you’ve been cryin’
With my hand on my chest
I swear, I’ll never tell.
The town is a glow with lights,
A caroler sings.
Your sister won’t sleep tonight
For the morning creeps.
That old happy Christmas
You came here to find it,
I did as well.
For joy doesn’t come in boxes,
Nor peace in a heavy watch.
Those red ribbon foxes are not so easy caught,
But the search it never stops.
The son of a holy man
You dream of the saints,
So thin with your poet hands
And your eyes aflame.
And I’d like to kiss you,
Full on the mouth,
I don’t care if you tell.
For love doesn’t come in boxes,
Nor truth in a crowded shop.
Those red ribbon foxes are not so easy caught,
But the search it never stops.
For faith doesn’t come in boxes,
Nor God in a silver cross.
Those red ribbon foxes are not so easy caught.
But the search goes on and on,
The search, it never stops.
~ A Fine Frenzy
1 comment:
Victory over concrete? for a few months...
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