I miss the trees of summer time
covered in green abundant grace
their branches are so lonely now
lacking bright color of any trace
I miss the ripe golden peaches
hanging plump in a lively leafed case
no fruit upon their branches now
no bees buzzing a hurried race
Winter rests upon the pointed peaks
hiding the crevasse of Angel’s face
yet an allotance of her beauty seen
in the season’s soft hushed pace.
I miss the freshness of the garden
the spreading grape vines interlaced
weeding the rich dark earth gave me
the reward of peaceful pondering place
I miss my bike and balmy outdoor hikes
those joyful journeys now replaced
with snowshoe trails and sledding hills
those familiar summer paths retraced
There is a time for everything
this season is not displaced
So let me rest and trust Him now
and feel the warmth of His embrace.