Tis the night before Christmas when the world took a breath, and the stars shimmered bright,
Snow whispered secrets through silver-lit night.
The hearth hummed softly, the embers aglow,
Casting warm dreams on the stockings below.
Old clocks ticked gently, time slowing its pace,
As magic leaned in, unseen but in place.
Outside, the moon stitched lace into the sky,
While hopes wrapped in ribbons drifted quietly by.
And though morning would come with its bustle and cheer,
This moment held still-soft, sacred, and clear.
For Christmas, it seemed, wasnโt hurried or loud,
But found in the hush where hearts werenโt so proud.
A pause. A promise. A gentle delight.
โTwas the night before Christmasโฆ and all felt just right. ๐โจ
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