Rain's becoming to my face, the
misty winds: a cold embrace.
Faeries ting-a-ling little bells on
the toes of little stockings. The
noise's too soft to be heard. Frost
spreads over the ivy. Ting-a-ling!
Trees dance barefoot
under piles of leaves. A
small, white paw tosses the
decayed leaves away for the toy that
would be favored anywhere. Seasons
changing. Ting-a-linging.
Rain's becoming to my face, the
misty winds: a cold embrace.
Ting-a-ling! Sprinkles of sparkles step
up to the crossing, racing frosting
forests from this juncture all the way
up to the hills.
(org. 11/12/05 rev. 2/11/09)
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