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.