Fresh Earth Autumn after rains and sun
Brings a mild breeze
Inviting birds perching
All our of Christmas trees
Feeling colder there since winter lacks here
While they rest from flight they wiff in delight
Then nibble and bite
The homemade cakes and all Christmas bakes
Especially a piece of the pie
What do you say about a boquet of nosegay
In norm of grey day may they pray variance
Fondly flocking near the fragrance
Of clean laundered fabrics
Where some are soft and ethereal, like
The clouds they are wanting to flee
Only in the house of Christmas
Is there brightness and warmth
Letting them remain safe and free.
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