November 27, 2016
by Roger Blakiston
The fire is ablaze, and the music is calm,
On the night before magical snow;
As the minutes tick by,
And I gaze at the sky,
I see storm clouds are starting to grow.
Excitement is mounting, it soon will arrive,
The heavens will send us their gift;
On Sedona’s red sand
The first flakes will land,
And shortly the wind will cause drift.
While sitting and waiting for snow to arrive,
I remember the white stuff of old;
And the Christmases past,
On the mountains so vast,
When I’d sled down the slopes in the cold.
I’d build snowmen, with eyes made of shiny black stones,
And noses of carrots and charms;
With a pipe in their mouth
And a look to the south,
And a scarf to cover their arms.
I’d throw snowballs at fir trees, build castles for kings,
Draw pictures with fingers in gloves;
Feed reindeer and robins,
And even the goblins,
Did all that a little boy loves.
The snow is so special, a gift from the gods,
In a land that is heaven on earth;
And here in Sedona,
In north Arizona,
You’ll witness the magic and mirth.
The clock has struck twelve, and the music has stopped,
With the embers no longer aglow;
It’s time to retire
From my dream by the fire,
For tomorrow is coming the snow.