Daily Cascade

Wrapped in Tinsel without Naming "IT"


It’s that time again, calendar insists
half joyful in tone, half as threat,
the lights blink wildly, placing a bet
and the tree's dragged in, crowned like king
dropping its needles on everything

this tree leans to left, what message it sends?
I dare think, to give my patience a try
still, my smile's wide, I don't know why
when old songs repeat till my sanity bends
about bells, and joy, and close friends

and cookies vanish with suspicious intent
while I fill socks as if it's a priceless art
for my scented candle's shaped like a heart.
If stressed I may be, until Santa will appear
I smile real wide, perform laughter and cheer.