by: Donald A. MacCord

A stillness that morning had settle far and wide
Encased in a white blanket of fresh fallen snow,
From the village and valley round-about the countryside
A garment of peace, of permanence did show.
Home I was bound, with my family in tow
A smile on my face wishing time would go slow.
I reached my hand across the wide seat
And touched the fingers of my love, my sweet.
A small angel in back, her hair all aglow,
Wrapped warmly in her blanket and fast asleep.
A sense of warmth I had that day
Of things remembered of things of old.
I drew up near, I hoped to stay,
To sharel the memories of a story told.
The first I heard as I drew up near,
The melody of the bell in the steeple spire.
My mind regressed to a time so dear
That it cause my eye to let loose a tear
As I remembered a tree, a warm crackling fire.
Tho morning it was the tiny lights still ablaze
On the house on the hill as it came into view.
Mom stood in the doorway, not showing her age,
I knew I was home as I saw her happy wave.
From the back seat fast a small angel did fly
"Grandma, Oh Grandma." the small voice said.
Her arms were outstreached and showing her smile,
I knew that for briefly, a Time had returned,
That I could with my loved ones, share for awhile,
The happiness and love that I had long ago learned.