hob-nobbins

alone away out west the plain
you in my heart again
seems seasons since
such sparrows came
may hear the angels spar and then
whirr endangered linger on
in a blur of colder texture
wrapped in cloth inside a manger
hear that sounds little stranger
our tears fall into favor
remain the rain reclaim the savior
seek the fruit chilled juice to savor
as sweet a wine to bring a truce
envy port your sweet merlot
as very varied berries go
impartial to the cordial host
call hob-nobbins and the ghosts
to walk around your lovely town
minimal at most.