City streets are filled with people,
Store windows are all aglow,
Crisp air is full of snowflakes swirling
With no place for them to go.
A cold wind keeps the trees all bending,
And summer seems so long ago,
Then a church bell starts me to dreaming
Of a Christmas that I used to know.
Where gentle trade winds are blowing,
And warm, white sands instead of snow,
Where sparkling waves reflect the light
Of a sun that's hot and bright.
And you're surrounded by dark, green jungle,
Instead of branches stark and bare,
Then, oh! how I wish,
I wish that I were there.
December 5, 1999
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