If you will only walk with me. As I fill your heart and soul with rhyme. The leaves are gone and frost has filled the woods. My breath is white with winter chill. The days grow shorter as December comes.
Ice chokes the creek and bids the water still.
The Strawberry Fields are crisp beneath my feet. The ripe red berries all are harvested and gone. But my sparkling wine still lingers on and on. Strawberry Fields will bloom and fruit once more. I hope we'll be there on that distant shore.