orchid

orchid

Friday, December 19, 2008

Christmas Eve

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The fire is roaring.

The dog, he is snoring

And dreaming of when he was fed.

Outside it is snowing.

The candles are glowing.

The children are tucked up in bed.

The mistletoe beckons

And my husband reckons

It is time to cuddle instead.

Soft music is playing

And now we are swaying.

There is nothing left to be said.

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