What a magical time is christmas time
Yet sweeter still in the days of our youth,
What a magical time is christmas time
Ere we taste the bittersweet morsel, truth.
...
Late one night, in a rag tag saloon,
I sipped on a brew when approached a buffoon.
His tongue grew loose with his steady drink,
In no time, my patience was edged to its brink.
...
The stars look like freckles,
The moon is the mouth of a well,
We're looking up its' tunnel,
Neck deep in a dry spell.
...
A Christmas Sonnet
What a magical time is christmas time
Yet sweeter still in the days of our youth,
What a magical time is christmas time
Ere we taste the bittersweet morsel, truth.
For that time we're allowed to be children
It is in regard naively assumed,
Such a gift how the world remains hidden
Fore it rears up and our childhoods plumed.
What a companious time is christmas time,
Tis a time for family gathering,
What a companious time is christmas time
Spent by live hearths with gift lathering.
Evergreen needles scattered on the floor
Accompanied by their cold, freshly scent,
Grecian wreaths adorn many-a household door
As the hanging harbingers of Advent.
What a tragical time is Christmas time
For we whose tears fall as the freshest snow,
What a tragical time indeed it is
When you're alone beneath the mistletoe.
Testified too by the silent mouses,
Another Christmas Eve at two houses.