“Christmas magic is silent.
You don't hear it—you feel it.
You know it. You believe it.”
Kevin Alan Milne

The snow falling outside
Reflects back the glow
From the twinkling lights
Of the tree
Standing in herald
Of the season
Before the bay window.
Upon the wide sill,
Couched in sprigs
Of pine and holly,
My grandmother's creche
Recreates the nativity
Bracketed by softly lit
Electric candles.
From my favorite chair
I watch the crystal frostiness
Of the night
As I listen
To Christmas standards
Accompanied by
The popping and crackling
Of the fire
Within the fireplace,
Sip a large mug
Of peppermint cocoa,
Bask in the warmth
Of my festive fleece pajamas
(and matching socks),
With a purring feline
In my lap
And listen to
A short-nosed canine
Snoring on the floor
At my feet.
On this Christmas Eve
It would be nice
To have someone
To share the night with,
As being alone
During the holidays
Can be difficult;
Yet,
I find I am
Comfortable
In my solitude.
Maybe tomorrow
I will feel loneliness,
But tonight,
With Bing Crosby
Crooning out a memory,
I am at peace.

c. 2024