Its dark and cold out

and getting colder and darker.

Black ice abounds.

Blue stars twinkle in a black cold sky.

Frost pops out of blank air and floats -

looking for a place to land.

Some melts under my hot breath -

but increases and forms again a few feet farther on.

Anticipation, bustle, jollity accompanies everyone.

Excitement, fills even the dullest one of us.

We wait in the cold - small balloons hold our words -

cartoon like by our mouths.

Then the angel songs drift down and hold us


A ray of pure white light keeps us bound.

He is coming—He is really coming.