I have no clear idea why my Christmas must have mincemeat pie I cannot find a sensible clue why verses want to stream from you your eyes, your face, your shape is all that moves my Christmas shell to fall this season's full of love-light bliss though yesterday, was hit or miss four figurines upon the ledge remind me to always keep my pledge three trumpets of my winter flower hang dejectedly to spite my power Lines cut across my sight no matter if I rub you right I am dreaming of mincemeat pie and this the season I won't lie
Christmas Pie
04
Dec