I do love all the Christmassy things;

twinkling lights, reds, blues, and greens.

Wishing for snowflakes to land on my tongue,

sleigh rides, snow angels. O what fun!

Rudolf and Frosty, and even the Grinch,

are the tales of which the season is drenched.

Streets come alive with elaborate lights,

arches of holly and mistletoed heights.

Pageants of toddling Marys and Joes,

and rubber baby Jesus swung by his toes.

Precious blonde angels with crafted wings,

drip glittery sparkles as they boisterously sing.

While shepherds and wise men with sniffling noses wave to their kin and strike silly poses.

Proud parents armed with photo apparatuses

are eager to update their Facebook statuses.

Bing and Karen sing our favorite renditions

of Christmas carols, our finest traditions.

Potlucks and parties will top off the year,

spreading around the best Christmas cheer,

With white elephant rounds of ten-dollar treasures, give to co-workers giggles of pleasure.

Elf on the shelf over here and there,

sneaks into action as Christmas draws near.

Cocoa steam curls into the air

as we snuggle together and Christmas tree stare.

Fireplaces stay busy with warm delight,

and display our stockings arranged just right.

The scents are spiced with cinnamon and apple.

Our appetites with restraint do grapple.

Stuffed greeting cards are becoming rare,

as digital media is easier to share.

But how I adore opening the mail to find

gorgeous pictures and greetings and hails.

Mostly I love the traditions cast,

as I watch my children repeating the past.

Like stealing the babe from his prominent place to hide ‘til he’s born on holiest of days.

Or calling my family on Christmas Eve Day.

“Christmas Eve Gift!” I’ll be first to say.

Then laugh with delight to hear them reply,

they’d said it first, much faster than I.

Then later that night we’ll bundle up tight.

We’ll worship together beneath candlelight.

We’ll lift our voices in carol with choir,

extoling the savior, Earth’s peace our desire.

Arm in arm to Mimi’s we’ll roam to

kindle the fires of hearth and home.

We’ll stay up late sharing stories and song,

then plead with the kids, “Bed is where you belong.”

Finally we’ll surely see Santa’s red light

wending his sleigh to us through the night.

Cookies on mantel, kids rush to their beds

too excited to sleep, they’ll cover their heads.

But oh when they wake on bright Christmas morn’

a mountain of presents has taken fine form.

Beneath the tree all crisp and bright,

bow-topped presents will meet their sight.

“Who will play Santa?” they call over mugs

in Christmas jammies all warm and smug.

As presents divide into small piles,

with name tags to match the thankful smiles,

We’ll take turns opening, one at a time.

I’ll pay close attention when they open mine.

The best gift to me is the rapturous glow

on my family’s faces o’er the gift I bestow.

Then we’ll gather the wrappings with hugs all around,

thank yous, and tears, amidst grateful sounds.

Moms start cooking the fabulous feast.

Dads clear the mess, then prop up their feet

To watch a game and mastermind

the assembling of toys or batteries to find.

The ruckus of games, motors, and gifts,

everyone glad, saturated in bliss.

Don’t get me wrong. All isn’t sublime.

There’ll be one who steps out of line.

But once again we’ll let go and forgive,

find ways to love, to live and let live.

Families and yuletides are a wonderful mess,

but for each one I feel simply blessed.

For this season is worth all that it brings.

That’s why I love all the Christmassy things.