By Mary Wacaster
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| Christmas Essence |
The wonder of season's
giddiness,
Alike to old and young,
Is the hypnosis of
festiveness
In very essence wrung.
Mystic little workshop elves,
And dancing fairy
queens,
And toys that gaily line
the shelves
Fill all the solvent
dreams.
Trees are in decoration
dressed.
Bright fires are burning
cozily.
Children are poking
unrepressed
Through coveted presents
nosily,
That had in greedy
askance
In hopes they could not
hide,
For Christmas morning's
vigilance,
Each one desired espied.
How deep, how deep the
love must go,
To search the lasting
heart,
That looks beyond the
tinsel glow
In somber faith to
impart
The sound, as once, of
Angels' song,
That filled the glowing
sky,
Telling of that, these
eons long,
Which brought these
blessings nigh.
