A blessed eve it is,
Again when those who have
All things anticipate:

All breathless beauty in a face,
The tug within each dusk and dawn,
All warmth in every deep embrace,
The coming Glory in a babe!

O to receive Him again when all is ours!

The dusk before the truest dawn,
Which proceeds masterfully each day,
This day of grace and hope for all,
That your dear saviour died for you,
Before you even heard His name,
Before you uttered cries aloud,
He'd stepped into a feeble frame,
To hoist the essence of each man,
Up with himself and through the grave,
So that we'd be forever changed.

You've been Eugene'd,
The Christmas has eve'd,
The house has been cleaned,
For merry making,
Great celebrating,
On One whom I lean,
The birth of the king,
Now forever living,
His blood for my sin,
And He humbled Himself as a baby.
\- Eugene DeGooseman

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# Description

Bonus:
Last Christmas I gave you a poem,
The very next day I gave you another,
This year to save me from tears,
I'll give you another poem.

Christmas eve,
And I'm not feeling Christmas-y,
But I got some peace and some joy,
And some smile-y,
Siblings dancing with me up on the attic,
Running amok with a dance not static,
Not stationary, just moving and having fun,
Till tomorrow brings celebration,
And praise to the blessed Son.