Holiday Hues

The scent of pine, a whisper low,

Of stories told in firelight's glow.

A crackling hearth, a cozy chair,

The weight of comfort hanging in the air.

Outside, the world in slumber lies,

Beneath a blanket of soft, starlit skies.

Snowflakes dance, a silent grace,

As winter weaves its magic lace.

A melody drifts, familiar and dear,

Awakening memories held so near.

Childhood laughter, bright and bold,

Tales of reindeer, and winters old.

The creak of stairs, a ghostly tread,

Where secrets whispered, dreams were bred.

A touch of frost, a winter's kiss,

A stolen moment, a stolen bliss.

The table set, a festive spread,

With dishes passed, and words unsaid.

A silent prayer, a grateful heart,

For moments shared, a brand new start.

The clinking glass, a gentle chime,

A celebration of passing time.

Of lessons learned, and battles won,

Of journeys started, journeys done.

A warm embrace, a whispered word,

A bond unbreakable, unheard.

The gentle touch, a loving hand,

Connecting souls across the land.

The gift of presence, pure and true,

A moment shared, between me and you.

But holidays aren't always bright,

Sometimes they carry shadows of the night.

A vacant chair, a missing face,

A lingering ache, an empty space.

A silent tear, a whispered name,

A memory burning, like a flickering flame.

The pain of absence, sharp and deep,

As memories stir, and secrets keep.

We gather close, in solace found,

In the embrace of love, profound.

For even in sorrow, hope remains,

A flickering candle, in life's vast plains.

We cherish the past, embrace the now,

And look towards the future, with hopeful brow.

The snow falls soft, a gentle hush,

As the world outside begins to blush.

With the first light of morning's gleam,

A promise whispered, like a silent dream.

That even in darkness, light will find its way,

And joy will return, another day.

So breathe it in, this holiday air,

A mix of joy, and sorrow to bear.

For life's a tapestry, woven with care,

With threads of silver, and gold so rare.

And in each moment, a story to tell,

Of holidays past, and the magic they spell.