When the sun hits just right
The first rays of light
Of the day pave the way
For the morning
Melts the snow just a bit
So it's even brighter lit
Though the ice shall survive
Through the morning
In the tower on the hill
Next to the flour mill
Where the cold can take hold
Even tighter
Lives an old and lonely man
Up before the day began
Full of dreams of a queen
Warmth inside her
While in the valley down below
In a house covered in snow
Last nights coals start to glow
Ever gently
As the new wood starts to burn
And the warm feelings return
And spread with smoke through the throat
Of the chimney
To the old and lonely man
Who with his frail arthritic hand
Pulls the rope in the hope
The bells will call
And bring everyone awake
With the joyful sound they make
As they sing and they ring
Blessing all
Donald,
This is such a beautiful poem, I can picture everything you speak of in this poem.. How beautiful one can only imagine the sounds made by the beautiful bells...
Thank you for sharing this.
Peace and Love
Judy