ON THE STREET IN WINTER
How pretty the snow is in the street light
Unaware of my cold, homeless plight,
Warmth is something for I constantly pray,
Just some poor hovel out of cold’s way

I speak from a cold street or empty doorway,
Winter, in your icy cold beauty do not stay,
Pass by my spot, I do not wish to die this day,
Yet death will bring warmth and comfort my way.

Warm soup from a passing car, a blanket dry,
Some change too, I am too grateful to cry,
There are angels in the world that really care,
Maybe save a soul like me from deep despair.

Sleep well dear angel in your warm bed tonight,
I know you prayed for me before eyes closed tight,
I will not die tonight, but if perchance I do,
I’ll put a good word up in heaven, just for you.

M Ann Margetson © December 13, 2000
2000/1042Street