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No snow shall
touch the ground today,
My spirit of
giving has gone away,
Where are my
gifts for all of this pain,
This I ponder as
I watch the rain,
Patiently waiting
on my bed alone,
Hopelessly
listening for the telephone,
Knowing that she
will not call,
Suddenly
footsteps in the hall,
Then my mother's
voice I hear,
"Come
downstairs it is dinner time dear,"
But food will
only make my passions grow,
For one beautiful
girl and one flake of snow.
This Poem Was Inspired By Lorin Bass
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This page created by Eric Steven Truitt.
All writings Copyright 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000.
Last revised: February 16, 2000
