Bringing Mae Flowers

He’ll be home for Christmas.

I haven’t seen him since the green summer at the bay.

The blue seawater off the coast-

And the setting sun on the Ferry Slip-

a memory to last through the lonely autumn.

But, he’ll be home for Christmas-

To warm me again as the days grow short and cold.

I dream of our reunion:

A romantic kiss under mistletoe-

He’ll sweep me off the feet in the falling snow-

Just like the movies.

He’s the best present I could receive.

Lonely no more-

He’ll be home for Christmas.