December is a happy time
Knowing that I made you mine
When I got down on one knee
I was wishing hopefully
That YES would be the word I hear
As we both cry a happy tear
Knowing our lives have just begun
In this world, under a sun
That will keep us warm inside
With a love we can not hide
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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Blessings,
Joyce Bowling