Christmas is a time of little time. How we get there is a mystery. Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb Into fields of sunlit harmony. Shopping, cooking, clearing walks and yards, Trimming house and tree while working, too; Making phone calls,… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
On Hanukkah, the first dark night, Light yourself a candle bright. I'll you, if you will me invite To dance within that gentle light. — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Mothers are the place that we call home. On them we rest our heads and close our eyes. There's no one else who grants… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Hobgoblins know the proper way to dance: Arms akimbo, loopy legs askew, Leaping into darkness with delight, Lusting for the ecstasy of fright, Open… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
On Halloween, witches come true; Wild ghosts escape from dreams. Each monster dances in the park.... — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
By day each soul must walk within its shadow. Only night can make us whole again... — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
...A fuel-less flame is nothing but a wraith, However wrought, if unsustained by passion. — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Given angel's wings, where might you fly? In what sweet heaven might you find your love? Unwilling to be bound, where might you move,… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Joy requires one to be awake, Adjusting the heart's ambience to bright. Some prefer the dark, as is their right, On grounds of agony,… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Christmas is a time of little time. How we get there is a mystery. Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb Into fields of sunlit harmony.… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
Sixty years is cause enough to sing In celebration of a gentle life! To the mother and the wife, Taking pleasure in what love… — Nick Gordon Copy Share Image
