Evergreen stands
still at the hearth.
Roaring red fire,
life, love and mirth.
Laughter and joy.
Cider's sweet mash.
Dull fire's embers;
glowing orange ash.
We retreat to our beds,
nestled and warm,
and dream of the morning
when the Christ child was born.
Lights festooned,
on the bushes outside;
filter in through the window,
glimmer and shine.
We long for the hour
when we flock to the tree.
Peppermint, tinsel,
ribbons, and glee.
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
Evergreen stands
still at the hearth.
Roaring red fire,
life, love and mirth.
Laughter and joy.
Cider's sweet mash.
Dull fire's embers;
glowing orange ash.
We retreat to our beds,
nestled and warm,
and dream of the morning
when the Christ child was born.
Lights festooned,
on the bushes outside;
filter in through the window,
glimmer and shine.
We long for the hour
when we flock to the tree.
Peppermint, tinsel,
ribbons, and glee.
