What's this, mother?
- I don't know, Let's discover!
What could be in this bag?
- Oh, look, a pair of gloves and mistletoe!
A Santa magic ball and two pine cones;
three angels with flutes, a bow and Christmas *****.
Oh, look! A heart and ginger bread...
And Apple Rolls! You remembered!
the child jumps around joyously dancing
- You remembered! You remembered!
- I sure did!
The night is slowly falling, her cover of dark ink
Dolling.

Blessed a night,
With no fallacy snowflakes cover the grounds,
The air touched
With white fairies, unique, caressing memoirs
Pristine hearts.

Blessed, the moon rises
Above pine trees and fir, at the pass of each cloud
Staring into the dark proud.

The hour of kisses under mistletoe arrives.
Cards, still, lingering on tables, in the air sweetness of cake,
Paces of a stranger showing a loner path,
Caramel whiff, Carols lift into the drizzling canopy,
Bells tolling, memories falling and calling
For help.

He knows nothing of this, the loner,
Empty his heart, leaving all hope behind,
Refilled with tears,
His mind produces magical dreams.

In praise of past illusions, love for life,
Love for laughter, love for the lost...
Rebirth of love divine,
In loved shells chosen,
The sky's bright darkness manifests.

Of clear conception,
Inception, blue fill...
To come on the morrow
When Santa's gifts we'll find
Under our trees,
When hearts of true will offer
More than empty smiles
And a cup of coffee...

A sign of blissful charm, enchanting
A world devoid of magic and love.

"Better to be cold than destroyed,
Crushed under the mighty need to feel all-mighty.
Better a cold star than a burden
To your own world."

Of pristine conception,
Inception, blue fill...
Love means sacrifice
And sacrifice's treated today
For stupid act of treason to the self,
To good old reason...
Charms enchanting cups of hot chocolate
To ease a child's pain.

In praise of past illusions, love for life,
Love for laughter, love for the lost...
Rebirth of love divine,
In loved shells chosen,
The sky's bright darkness manifests.

The hour of kisses under mistletoe comes back.
Cards, toys, ribbons and lights floored, flavour of cheesecake,
Shadows of the past and footprints left around,
Caramel whiff, Carols lifted to gently touch the angels,
Bells tolling, memories falling and calling
For help.

Blessed, the moon rises
Above pine trees and fir, at the pass of each cloud
Staring into the dark aloud.