A day went sailed me by,
Not a word was spoken and breathed,
Like the roses you once were,
adored by the travellers
who came once in awhile.
The memory of the days,
of you in your red dress,
of the perfume you loved,
of the morning glory you picked in the morning,
of the scowl you showed when you were angry,
and the sweet wishes you breathed when I craved it.
The spirit of Christmas,
the joy of the Christians,
The touch of your hand,
the smell of tea you loved,
why! I cannot wish for a better you.
Happy Christmas.
Clive
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