--This is a poem I wrote as a reflection on an 1131 AS Chronicle entry:
This year, just after the Lord's own feast,
On a winter night, at our first sleep,
Was the northern heaven all as it seemed
A burning fire; Dismayed, we dreamed
Of an end to our dreaming, our time.
Wow, Gail. Beautiful.
Posted by: Scott P | December 24, 2008 at 09:44 PM
Wonderful, Sis. Elegant.
Posted by: JWebb | December 25, 2008 at 12:18 AM