Weary night-time travelers,
Headlights on snow packed roads.
Drive past cold farmer’s fields,
Faintly lit by northern sky.
Called home by bits of memories,
Warm feelings held deep inside.
Hoping to recapture.
Scenes of what used to be.
Patchworks of old memories
Stitched together in dreams

Candles placed by windows,
Visible from so far away.
Beacons of wishes,
Cast on starry nights.
Crying out to loved ones,
-Come home for the night.
If only it were yesteryear,
I’m sure we’d all be there.
But time has come between us
And some are no longer here.

We hold to dreams that bring us cheer,
And drive away those past-midnight fears
Recollections of special holidays,
That stretch across the years.

                                                 -Clarence Holm

“Ormsby – Little town with big streets!”