NAYAAB PUNJANI

 

The snowflakes start,

Drifting down from the sky,

Their unique figures a part,

Of the joyful spirit that my,

Heart desires during winter.

Oh, the season of beauty.

 

The children’s laughter,

Can be heard a mile away.

As they scatter,

Across the snow and sway,

To the whistling of the wind.

Oh, the season of joy.

 

On Christmas morning,

Door to door singing,

Is heard, the caroling,

Cheerful, and soothing,

With the voices’ rhythmic beat.

Oh, the season of music.

 

Hundreds of presents lay,

Under the lighted pine tree.

But two lovers stay,

Their eyes twinkling with glee,

Under the mistletoe’s leaves.

Oh, the season of love.