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For this Christmas 

I don’t want anything 

made of something 

not real. 

In the spirit 

of ol’ Saint Nick, 

wouldn’t it be nice 

to just sit around 

with family and friends 

and Grandma at our table.  

She’d go on about the past 

when the blinding snows fell hard 

talk about the blizzard 

on the day that I was born. 

Mothers, brothers, 

children, wives, 

sitting round a fire 

on a chilly winters eve – 

we’ll warm our inner spirits 

in the glow of all convened. 

As the seasons welcome raindrops  

stream down our window panes, 

let’s fill our thirsting souls 

for another coming year. 

So this Christmas 

let it be genuine—authentic, 

one that’s twined 

with things that matter, 

as we cherish what we have 

while we comfort those without.