• sanchari 35w


    Fall ran away like a sprinter,
    Trees have now began to wither,
    It's too cold, dry and bitter,
    Pull on your woollens for here's Winter!

    High mountains cover themselves with snows,
    On crystal nights chilly winds happily blows;
    In search of warmth, the birds leave their home,
    But for homely love, they helplessly roam.

    With bag full of gifts arrives the Santa,
    Fetching tons of love all the way from Atlanta;
    With the elves playing all through the way,
    There he comes with his reindeer on his flying sleigh.

    The season of sober reflection,
    Fills the heart with tender affection;
    Enigmatic form of mysterious nature,
    Fills a poet with ultimate pleasure.