The World of Myth Magazine

With a warmth that grows from the fireplace,
And the smiles are found on every face.

The smell of fresh Pine fills the house,
Everyone in their ugly blouse.

The different lights flicker around the Christmas Tree,
And a sense of happiness is found to some degree.

Freshly made Hot Cocoa as it streams from our mugs,
Sitting around with chatter on the Christmas rugs.

With the children sitting and waiting…
With new memories made… creating.

Staring at their neatly wrapped Christmas presents,
Waiting, still as the dinner plate of pheasants.

With one last run into town,
It is the Christmas Countdown.