Respect Believe The First Christmas Day Poem by The Original Tom Maxwell

The day before Christmas, the light of the sun,
From heaven shining down, casting shadow's
Through the bare branches, of the trees
Natures art, on the snow-covered ground.

A chill in the air, from the blowing wind outside
The last three days, the temperature, below twenty degrees
No sightings of any critters, The birds, foxes, or squirrels'
Friends outside my window, that normally are around to visit, me.

A doe with a small young deer, just appeared, walking down,
The slope of the hill, along the side of Schooley's woods,
Following the trail where I laid their feed, as they eat for their daily needs, they have found a spot to rest, they are now,
laying on a pile of grass and leaves.

Their camp not far from Schauberts bridge the only path across,
Maxwell's creek, about seventy yards from me, I'm in my warm home, all alone, high as my view looks over my redwood deck, which is eleven feet above the ground, as the lights on the rail, shine all around.

Peaceful quiet, I can hear the wind's force blowing outside,
A howling sound. The wind, reminds me of Christmas, we each respect it, talk about it believe in it's power, the wind it self we never will see,
This holiday season take time, thank God for his son Jesus Christ, on the first Christmas day, believe in their power, respect
them, with praise, unlike the wind, you will see them one day.
The Original Tom Maxwell/poems © 12/24/2022 AD