A Dream of Christmas

I had kindled the hearth to warm my toes and started some Hickory brew
To heat up my insides as well, as another December day was through.
And breathing in that wholesome scent, I closed my worn eyes tight
Resolved that I might dream a bit that cold and snowy night.

In the almost formless shadows, the quiet cabin came alive.
Whispering messengers delivered me gifts as the clock struck Ten-and-Five:
The crackle of the fire, the creaking of the floor,
The childlike wintry whining of the wind beneath the door.

Like an echo ever-coming, sounds bounced from every cob:
From the eaves to the boards to my ivory doorknob.
And then in fright and worry I spun around in place
And there before my ornate mantle crept the shadow of a face.

The shadow bore a beard that stretched almost from sight.
It flickered and it quivered in the muted candlelight.
It seemed to hold immense respect for whom it reflect
And in that moment it was enough just to stay circumspect.

But as my nerves were calming enough to clearly think
The most surprising, brilliant light forced my eyes to blink.
There when I reopened them in beauty that made me gape
Were glistening elven sprites about and Santa donned in velvet cape.

Lo! It was the grandest thing to watch that cheerful pack
Race to lace the finest ruby ribbons round my tree and back.
From Santa's sleeves red ringing bells shot out like from a gun
Followed by green garlands and globes that filled the room as he spun.

Betwixt this glorious tumult open flew my shutter doors,
A gusty wind freezing cold the candles to their cores.
Gone was all illumination, in black the chamber stood.
I heard but recapitulation of the horn owl in the wood.

Then again the hearth flames livened allowing me to see -
No Christmas bells rang anywhere; no ribbons wrapped my tree.
My visit from Santa Claus had been but reverie.
So with a smile I lay me down to again with Santa be.