This poem came to mind this morning while I walked to work.
The frost lay on the morning still,
as though God had placed it there,
The trees, they stand so tall and strong,
despite they're standing bare.
The air is like an icy blast,
that blows upon my face,
I look upon creation and pray,
dear God I love this place.
The frost lay on the morning still,
as though God had placed it there,
The trees, they stand so tall and strong,
despite they're standing bare.
The air is like an icy blast,
that blows upon my face,
I look upon creation and pray,
dear God I love this place.
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