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
December finds himself again a child Even as he undergoes his age. Cold and early darkness now descends, Embracing sanctuaries of delight. More and more he stares into the night, Becoming less and less concerned with ends, Emblem of the… — 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
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
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
On Halloween, witches come true; Wild ghosts escape from dreams. Each monster dances in the park… — Nick Gordon Copy Share
By day each soul must walk within its shadow. Only night can make us whole again... — Nick Gordon Copy Share
...A fuel-less flame is nothing but a wraith, However wrought, if unsustained by passion. — Nick Gordon Copy Share
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
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
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
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
December finds himself again a child Even as he undergoes his age. Cold and early darkness now descends, Embracing sanctuaries of delight. More and… — Nick Gordon Copy Share
