Holiday Time

It is that time of year when, icy cold,
Thoughts fly to dreams of what’s to come,
Of seas and skies and summer’s pastures green,
Of hills and lakes and teas in favoured towns.
The brochures speak enticements to the mind
That wants to shake the soul free of deep sleep
And winter’s sloth and quicken all the sense
Of joy in thoughts of places new.
Anticipation brings delight and raises hopes
For sights and sounds from places near and far.
So happiness arrives and consolation flies
In leaps of faith that make the spirit soar.
There is such beauty in the looking to the times
That lie ahead in spring and summer’s birth.

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