In the valley down below
stands a farmhouse in the snow.
Rolling hills of evergreen
gently frame the tranquil scene.
O’er a stream that cuts the ridge,
sits an oak-plank covered bridge.
And a Sunday-meetin’ church,
high above the bank does perch.
Lamps that glow from windows warm,
smile at clouds that threaten storm.
Soft gleam in the twilight makes
tiny stars of falling flakes.
Bridge and buildings charm the nights
with their strings of Christmas lights.
How those decorations shine
in these scene-rapt eyes of mine.
Images of joy and cheer
may not last, but never fear:
Memories won't likely fade
of the Season so displayed.
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