Keep your city lights say I
All the sounds piped through the sky
Christmas isn’t flashy lights
Or artificial winter sights.
I prefer the country store
Where crafts are made from little more
Than hands with loving finger tips
A room aglow with candles lit.
Neighbors stopping in the night
Singing carols with such delight
Sharing warmth…and cinnamon
Knowing love is never done.
On that blessed day each year
We humbly praise the child of cheer
Wrapped in swaddle… lambs looked on
Jesus Christ … the angels song.
