Christmas Poem

Fires give off glowing light,

Snow falls softy through the night,

Home and hearth are on my mind,

For Christmas is the finest time.

It all begins on thursday fourth,

When, usually, we head up north,

Dreaming, waiting, till we dine,

For one can’t wait for Christmas time.

The season long, and filled with merry,

With Mom-Dad-Conor, Tom and Barry,

Giftmas gifts run through my mind,

For it’s getting close to Christmas time.

Christmas eve can be quite tense,

We must converse with little sense,

With company we would decline,

If it were not for Christmas time.

Tomorrow morn, when first light breaks,

What joyful shouts and calls we make!

And after that, we soon align,

To see who’s first to Christmas time.

And greater are the joyous cries,

When Christmas hits our weary eyes,

Gifts removed from under pine,

With all caught up in Christmas time.

How grand it is to nap in paper,

Exchanging candies with one’s neighbor,

Yes, the pile has declined,

But still there’s joy in Christmas time.

We celebrate with all due mirth,

Both children’s story and their birth,

One for us and one divine,

This is why there’s Christmas time.

Now, to all, I mean to speak,

If you see this as something bleak,

Then take our joy and make it thine,

There’s room for all at Christmas time.