Time truly moves on, but Yuletide seems to remain a constant...
For, as a babe, he didn’t remember
The joyous twenty-fifth of December.
The twinkling lights, as bright as all the years,
Had not the tree brought on the Christmas cheers?
And when the snow fell, and wishes came true
The wonderland opened, so fresh and new.
Through boyhood years, he’d recollect the joys
Of ripping through wrapping and playing with toys.
Seasonal tidings passed from ear to ear
And life shaped a man, not shedding a tear.
Evergreens and spice touched carolers song.
Not one moved his spirit for very long.
And time, which will harden the hearth of hearts,
Still commands the Yuletide from which it all starts.