Keep a poem in your pocket
and a picture in your head
and you'll never feel lonely
at night when you're in bed.
The little poem will sing to you
the little picture bring to you
a dozen dreams to dance to you
at night when you're in bed.
So —
Keep a poem in your pocket
and a picture in your head
and you'll never feel lonely
at night when you're in bed.
- Owl Orchestra
️I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
"We are nearer to spring
Than we were in September,"
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
At nine of the night I opened my door
That stands midway between moor and moor,
And all around me, sliver-bright,
I saw that the world had turned to white.
Thick was the snow on field and hedge
And vanished was the river-sedge,
Where winter skillfully had wound
A shining scarf without a sound.
And as I stood and gazed my fill
A stable-boy came down the hill.
With every step I saw him take
Flew at his heel a puff of flake.
His brow was whiter than the hoar,
A beard of freshest snow he wore,
And round about him, snowflake starred,
A red horse-blanket from the yard.
In a red cloak I saw him go,
His back was bent, his step was slow,
And as he laboured through the cold
He seemed a hundred winters old.
I stood and watched the snowy head,
The whiskers white, the cloak of red.
“A Merry Christmas!” I heard him cry.
“The same to you, old friend,” said I.