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Hanging flirtatiously from each branch,
the sparkling sheen of tinseled treasure;
Rising high cloaked in forest green,
alive with winter's joy and pleasure.

Icicles shine in their silvery light,
within Nature's captivating scene;
Bewitched are we who stand and watch,
mirrored reflections in flashing beams.

In all its glory the bounty glows,
magnetic in its magical gleam;
A Christmas gift for all to share,
within a blessed heavenly scheme.

And with a star placed high above,
soon a mystical sight unfolds;
As golden streaks of ancient lore,
share timeless tales for young and old !
It seems our lives are merely a reflection,
of countless subtleties of imperfection;
But God looks from above with perfect eyes,
ensuring all mankind won't be denied.

He sees our endless struggles multiply,
like visions of great ghosts that quantify;
Each lowly spirit's grappling with contention,
while managing our hopes with pure intention.

The sacred ways of heaven blossom full,
in magnitude of gifts that make us whole;
The beauty and the wonder of the world,
will demonstrate His love in glorious rule.

His gracious manner showing us the way,
of letting us decide the course we take;
Yet even in our darkest hours of sin,
we'll know His heart forever shines within.
The long bleak halls that bear surprise,
of mirrored shadows' invisible eyes;
Cast visions that will soon repent,
from illusive dreams' opaque fragments.

The drafty corridors in frigid cold,
where icy shards loom large and bold;
A mansion where no one knows his place,
exuding its echoes from time and space.

Perhaps the wayward hours will appear,
holding to account these walls of fear;
While they search for evil's antidote,
the complexity of answers remain remote.

Yet hopeful images still seem at play,
as smiles overshadow those paths of gray;
Conquered souls are willed to start anew,
when destiny's light shines into view.

As witness to evolving notions here,
once the winding road becomes so clear;
Are glorified by heaven's pearly gate,
from captivated souls consumed with faith.
Connecting all the wires within,
adjusting every private whim;
While managing the frequent ache,
resulting from my grave mistakes.

For until now my leisure days,
were lost inside a gossamer haze;
A wealth of guilt engulfed my soul,
with emerging doubt of destiny's role.

And through the fire I walk alone,
to banish fears from worlds unknown;
When as my burning flesh revealed,
the heavy scars beneath the shield.

Taught by the Master of Disguise,
to moan and cry for caution's prize;
I know not how I've come to be,
this hollow shell which no one sees.
Not my usual upbeat message, yet one can assert that Satan is the Master of Disguise !
When lightning bolts of radiant glow,
as unwavering signs that meet;
Their curious and deflective might,
soon mirrored on sullen streets.

In the tangle of minds' disarray,
this vision of brazen motion;
Travels 'round the wicked sky's intent,
where there lies a massive ocean.

Unhinged and unaware they seek,
to dance upon the tumbling waves;
Grabbing onto life's sheer fantasy,
pretending spirits' flight is saved.

Yet when the hosts of hours return,
in their surprising consequence;
All awaken from a dream-like state,
a mere mirage of happenstance.
The instant moment creeps upon,
a solid boundary yet unknown;
Complete with errant loss of time,
this final destination's climb.

And floating upward in the air,
this monument to style and flair;
Recedes into a crowded space,
where every sound of life's erased.

In universal theme of doubt,
connecting pathways north and south;
Each galaxy provides the cost,
which interrupts all trains of thought.

And rising with a powerful roar,
from lightning's speed defiant core;
One precious whirl of thought remains,
invisible now in nature's game.
Placing the welcome mat outside the door,
lighting tapered candles in the windows;
The hearth glistening in expectation,
for it's all about the holidays now.

A chilled breeze shakes the maple tree,
woolen scarves wrapped 'round our faces;
Watching a turbulent sky above us,
returning from the cold to warmer places.

Grandma said we could have some pie,
but Mom said it was too soon before company;
My mouth watered as the cooking continued,
when will these scrumptious scents reach family ?

And then a burst of happiness I'd always known,
as aunts, uncles, cousins and nephews abound;
I shouted "hallelujah" as they sat around the table;
And Grace was said in muted tones of sound.
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