My son brought me a bag of rosebuds of which to make tea And when the water meets them then they bloom A Valentine's present profoundly inspiring to me When they spread rosebud-fragrance through the room
Like the ancient breath of angels preserved As treasure reverentially reserved For only the highest and holiest days I will not make tea of them after all
Instead I will cherish them sacred always My souvenirs in winter of the fall
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMVI
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Reviews of "Souvenirs in Winter"
Reviewed by Franziska Brueggerhoff (Reader)
Reviewed on February 14, 2006
you truly bring the distinctive `ancient` aroma to us, the mellow mood underlines the setting smoothly
all senses are stimulated
Let this coming of age story of a boy named Bean take you back to a simple time. Set in a small southern town in the 1960's, encircled by a river and gleaming white cotton fields.
all senses are stimulated
Franziska
Love Tinka