The eve of Chistmas

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The ornamental Santa hangs on a tree

Silent but jolly for all to see

On the North Pole, the real Santa works

Hurrying around as the night still lurks

A layer of ice forms upon the pond

As Jack and Jill Frost dance with scarves donned

They flit lightly to window sills

Patterns of frost flowing from their hands like rills

On the glass panes forms take shape

With children asleep and no one to gape

The night awaits with bated breath

Finally reindeer drawing a sled cross an unseen path

In the sky, bells a -jingling

Santa's laugh loudly ringing

As he finishes his rounds

From his mouth "Merry Christmas to all!" sounds


And thus is the eve of Christmas



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