a solid dot on paper,
A sweet meal routed months ago.
Winter season has begun,
The air is thin with silver moon,
and cold touches of icy rain...
Tree leaves either turn yellow or brown,
they murmur and quit with a frown.
Benches are lonely at parks,
Sparrows sit on frosted wires,
Capturing the last autumn views.
We can expect snow outdoors,
and red stockings under Christmas trees
within weeks, by new year's eve,
Spring will be on the way to
knock doors, spring festivals are up,
new birth of hope, growth, and peace
will be sowed as earth turns dark
and sprouts of plants appear,
the magic of time,
the wish of the children...