The simple boy of the land

For every season there is change. The simple boy of the land lost his way. Lonesome and low, had no home to go. Fell asleep in the cold wet snow. His garments all tattered and torn. To whom was this child born? Lost his flight, had darkness over him, midnight. An angel did descend, with skin as white as porcelain, hair as golden as the suns rays. His eyes so lucid semblance to the sky so blue, so true. There was a childs heart he wanted to mend. A celestial voice, softly spoken, a wonderful token. His clad clothe adorned so beautifully, so enticing, distinction, enhancement. Similar to the evergreen tree with all of its trimmings, its ornaments. Stars of wonder, stars brightening the night, glorified light The skies thence opened, so triumphantly, earth was illuminating. The simple boy and his angel hands entertwined, together. An impression, A mere reflection of love. Great effect, renewed respect. The test of time is not of the essence. The struggle is gone, the battle is won. After the storm, the calm. The sun once again is smiling. All rejoice, jubilation. A graceful dance, an enchanting hymn. Akin and reminiscent to the sounds of the hummingbird. Bells ring, angels chant. So golden, semblance to silence. No need to utter a word. An impression, a glance, a view is suffice. Henceforth, the simple boy no longer stray, found his home, found his way. Where love is applied, All is complied. The simple boy of the land, with garments all tattered and torn, alive, free, and reborn. For every season there is change.