Holiday Bliss
Photo by Nicole Michalou on Pexels.com Holiday Bliss The year turns slow, a measured, quiet grace, The final, faded green surrenders place. The frost begins to cling, a crystal sheen, Upon the windowpane, a painted scene. And through the air, a certain sweet note rings, The hushed anticipation that it brings. The scent of pine, a memory held dear, The flicker of the flame that conquers fear. The simple joy of calling out a name, A bond rekindled in the hearth's warm frame. For in this season, when the world grows dim, We gather close—the sturdy branch upon the limb. The laughter spills from kitchens warm and bright, A symphony of comfort, pure delight. Reflecting back the twinkling festive light, That chases shadows from the longest night. The worn traditions, comforting and deep, The silent vows the generations keep. The treasured tales the passing years will house, Whispered from grandmother to the spouse. A mother’s gentle touch, a father’s quiet gaze, The simple, stu...