December Sky
I sit, with deep contentment, by the window
And watching the young evergreen out-shadowed
The oak tree, where love once etched on it, I sowed
My time quietly slipped into the picture
Between my only son and his firstborn son
Between the past, the present, and the future
I have the feelings, but no words are spoken
When the words are spoken, my own feelings gone
Hidden for life, in my sagging rocking chair
I felt the late afternoon cold breeze, touching
White-bearded face, with the autumn scent tingling
While the golden sun has faded, into gray
I saw the charmed naked ladies, still smiling
In a bright purplish pink, for there are no snows
Soon, the land will be white, when tomorrow bows
As I eagerly wait for December sky
To glow, with sensational firecrackers’ lights
In my arms, my grandson awaken from sleep
No words spoken, but, has the smile on his face
In him I saw myself, in my father’s arm
Now I know, December’s coming, to give grace
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006
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