comes Yule, enwrapped with gifts of time,
a word of sentiment and mirth
a challenge to enhance with rhyme.
For centuries imbue this word
with richness I would fail to fill.
Indeed, with all the humbug made,
it has a power none here could kill.
It pulses with a planet's heat,
outshines the whitest giant star,
yet lives within the smallest heart,
in children where Yule visions are.
Oh, Yule! That season we mistake
for merely merriment and fun.
Remember swiftly, and with joy,
God gave His own begotten Son.
That then is Yule; the rest is grand,
the geysers love creates within,
to overflow from hearts made clean
where Yuletide victories begin.</span></p><p> </p>