When winter’s breath blew soft and slow,

And rooftops slept in sheets of snow

The heart within a humble home

Glowed bright beneath the starry dome.

The pine trees danced in frost’s embrace,

Each branch adorned in silk and lace

And carollers sang with voices bold

Spinning tales of days of old.

The village rang with carol tunes,

Beneath the frost and silver moon.

Young hearts pressed noses to the glass

To watch the magic moment pass.

Then a child began to sing,

A song of hope and everything.

The elders smiled with quiet pride,

As tears and memories softly cried.

So let this season fill your soul,

Like stories told from ages old.

For Christmas lives not in the gold,

But in the heart where warmth takes hold.