The Christmas Spirit
A Christmastide poem
I set myself a challenge to pen one Christmas poem a day.
Fox sniffs the chilled air as owl swoops in the dark:
Another magic eve under the stars.
But tonight, the sherry glass is full beside the fire
and stockings,
red and green,
lace the mantle.
A peaceful hush clothes each house with calm,
and the Christmas spirit waits:
It’s (just) too soon to spark the sunrise scurry and frolic.
