an ode to the pandora christmas station

caroling pockets of sunshine on snow
chime bells on red hollied leaves
rosy cheeks, chapped lips,
furry hats and hearty laughs,
as children race through the night-
and my heart is younger
than yours,
you know.
i dream of snow
days in july;
of slipping under sheets of ice
and mattresses of snow
angels under laundry lines
of frozen flannel
nightgowns
and warm syrup dunked
marshmallows,
sitting by the fire
under heavy blankets with phrases of happy
christmas to all.
so be my joy
to the world, tonight, sip
hot chocolate
beneath dreams of an elf filled factory
in a candy cane forest
far away.
let's share
a silent night with inundating
organs and crunchy footsteps in snow,
running towards miracles and
wonderful lives of
dear, dear snowmen and women;
may they wear silk hats and dance
with us to jingling bells of horse
sleighs passing through this
deep wintry darkness,
only guided by long candlesticks
illuminating the silhouette of a petticoat pilgrimage
tiptoeing across frosty paths
to the beat of a young children's choir.

dls