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The Morning Of ChristmasSitting in my chair, so old and worn,
It made no difference that it was Christmas morn.
There were no decorations, no tinsel nor tree,
No children's squeals or shouts of glee.
Time was passing, no matter how slow,
And I sat silently, dreading the snow
That was predicted to arrive ever so soon,
Keeping me prisoner in my own, dark cocoon.
The street was awake, there were sounds of life,
Children with toys, a husband and wife.
The snow starting falling, slowly drifting down,
Turning the village into a wonderland town.
My eyes were dull as I remembered the past,
That one solemn Christmas that ended as my last.
T'was the morning of C
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More