Whiteness everywhere, not the bitter white of the pomegranate guts, but white snow as crystals of ice, minute chips of ice, long icicles dripping from rooftops, no fiddlers on these rooftops, instead a Santa Claus preparing his trip for Christmas Eve.
Sliding down chimneys, the men in the house, the Fathers, the Dads, being our Santa Clauses, not afraid to give his wife a Christmas Tree, a combat of snowballs and destroyed snow-forts as children we play, we continue playing outside in the snow with or without our children, chains on our snow tires, sandbags in our car trunks, dressing warmly in a scarf and two knit hats. 1+2=3.
Protected and well fed, well watered, a time to welcome the End Of The World, because it will be here with Saint Peter, the Judge of us all. Those who have been good or those who have not been good, empty Christmas socks hanging on a fireplace, or coal in these naughty socks! A miracle to have socks filled with candies and goodies.
A goodie for a good person, a good child, a time of Christmas to get up, stand up, and not to give up the fight, stand up for your rights, do not give up the fight.
Snowmen and snowwomen marching as "The Saints Go Marching In!!!" equipped with snow cones to lick off syrupy red sugar water and the warmth of melting chocolate candy as sweet and nice as Jesus in our hearts.
This one's for YOU Sweet-Heart!!!
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