festivities
Erupting in this poorly concealed laugh,
A snigger and a cackle at your jest,
Turn quickly to the sternest mouth of food,
And hood your eyes until you've had the rest,
For merry madness tends to fill the ears,
Then seasons brilliant veg though it arrests.
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.
Cold flames entwined in plastic leaves,
Alight in dance so strangely beautiful,
The still red globes and pulsing lights,
Lay on the air a contemplative silence.
Still Christmassing,
As I hear the year rolling up just behind,
Rampant on the edge of time to swallow past,
Hasty to unfurl the New Year yet it slows,
To see a hectic reunion span the west,
To watch the twinkling lights before they cease,
To glimpse the winking moonlight on the people as they chatter.
Animated arms in the Christmas lights,
A spatter of cool white under the encompassing yellows,
Few brightnesses scatter at the side,
They stand round to watch the generations,
Gathered together in the Christmas lights.
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.
Gorgeous food,
And gorgeous friends,
Sit around me at the table,
Some battered and bruised,
But for the meanwhile happy and stable,
Others ready to love,
And sprinkle some salty salt,
And shine some gracious light,
For a high priest stands with the bruised in his sight,
And the awestruck lovers in his heart.
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.
Glowing lights adorn the tree across the road,
Exuberant fairies blinking in cold blues and warm oranges,
Its trunk flows seamlessly out from its roots,
And holds the little fairies with care.
A street light stands to attention,
Watching the cool streets with a fiery gaze,
It towers like a bastion,
Bearing the frigid darkness and halting its charge.
They seem to silently speak,
Their feet encased in the earth,
They remain still.