Without the city lights
The comfy feelings of warmth from hot coco
While glaring at the tree so bright
And aimlessly playing in snow
The sparkling of the north star
The smell of fresh ginger bread
Bright blinking lights seen from afar
This beautiful time when rarely tears shed
Silent among lots of galaxies,
The shining stars repose;
In fall they were in one position,
In another in the month of snows.
Shine bright in furnishings of youth,
Shining brightly in the backs of minds:
Residents of summer's arrival
And great times left behind.