Through the frosted window I look,
As I engulf myself in a good book,
Perhaps a tale of pirates, or thieves!
While outside the trees lose their leaves,

Falling snow mocks,
The safe warm fire,
And the presents under the tree,
Are surely something to admire,

Gold ribbon comfortably leans,
On red and white boxes,
Snuggled closely together,
Like baby red foxes,

Golden ham,
Gets wrapped in silver foil,
As the candle’s flame,
Burns up the last oil,

Laughter still bounces,
Off the dark walls,
And off to bed,
The night time calls,
Soon the chimney,
Will be brushed by red,
And under the tree,
A shiny new sled,

Stockings,
Will be filled to the brim,
And the fresh pine tree,
Adorned with trim,

It’s this joyous day,
We all love so dearly,
We are all so lucky,
To celebrate it yearly.