The woodland stirs with hooves and paws that dislodge the snowfall deep,
and all around the winter scurry ensues as creatures creep.
A squirrel scampers through the night,
and the village lamps all lit shine bright.
It’s Christmas eve in our warm homes, and the children are asleep.
Outside deer stroll with gentle steps in the forest wide and long,
and in the glade golden dreams are spun as sparkling scene and song.
A carol rises through the air,
and the jingle quaint dispels each care.
It’s magic here in the grove so snug and the music sung is rare.