T’was the twenty-second of December
And we decorated the tree!
Bulbs and lights, figures and pictures,
And one centerpiece nativity.

Then, of course, up on the top,
Was our traditional plastic star.
It’s getting old and a little yellowed –
It’s come along pretty far!

The tree looks so lovely, glowing bright,
With the decorations all around.
All the ornaments, from new to old,
Fill it from the tip to the ground.

Somehow, if makes such a lovely picture,
Just to look at with delight.
But, we don’t have many days left to enjoy –
Christmas day – why it’s nearly in sight!

To the KING be all the glory!

T’was the twenty-first day of December
And I’m now home with my family!
It’s been quite some time away.
But I’m glad, again, home to be.

I loved my stay with the Marrs,
But now, it’s time for me to come home.
Though, through the last several months,
I know my imagination will often roam.

For now, after a really long day,
It’s time that I retired to rest.
So, sleep I must try to coax,
So I can take on tomorrow’s new quest!

To the KING be all the glory!

Sleepy People Who Just Woke Up After Midnight, Lose Photographic Creativity

T’was the nineteenth of December
And a day came at last,
When I fell right fast asleep,
Before my daily rhyme was cast.

Midnight came and went,
Before I jolted up and awake,
Realizing all too late,
My lack of writing mistake.

So good-night one and all!
I’m headed back to bed.
I’ll sleep much better now,
Knowing this was said!

To the KING be all the glory

T’was the eighteenth of December
And I have an interesting tale,
One to capture the attention –
Or not – I s’pose I could fail…

‘Tis the tail of a Mustache,
A Christmas Mustache at that!
A Christmas Mustache on a Christmas tree –
A Christmas tree that wasn’t very fat.

What is a Mustache of Christmas?
How does it come to being?
Well, as to the what, scroll back up –
That is the Mustache you are seeing.

Intertwined with pink and black,
It sits proudly on the tree.
Not on the bottom nor at the top,
Nearly a third down – there it be.

Just how did a little tree,
Grow a Mustache onto it’s face?
There it had some creative help,
So this decoration could find a place.

Two little hands twisted together,
The strands of the pink and black.
Those same little hands hung it up –
Then of giggles there was no lack!

But since t’were not my hands
That were involved in the deed,
Please don’t try to ask me
How this idea did succeed.

Nor how it came to being –
I really haven’t a clue! –
Makes me wonder what else
In these childrens heads doth brew!

What will we see tomorrow –
Next week or maybe next year?
At least it will be creative –
And showered with giggles – never fear!

To the KING be all the glory!

T’was the seventeenth of December
And I sat frazzled and tired,
Trying to get this story done,
Thinking my brain was wrongly wired.

Still, slowly but surely,
The words came along.
Forming in lines,
From a overcrowded throng.

So, here I still sit,
The story still not done.
But, at least in several ways,
I’m still having fun!

To the KING be all the glory!