Sing
Sing, choirs of angels, sing,
Harmonies that with them bring
The psychic realm of Christmas trees,
Recital of prayers on bended knees.
Dwelling in open spaces,
Frosty tinsel draped places,
Wherein the infant innocence entice
With tastes of sugar, salt and spice.
Nutcracker suites of gentle lilt,
Aural pirouettes that bloom and tilt,
At the windmills of myth and majesty,
Spinning stardust dreams eternally.
Sing, oh choir of angels, sing,
The notes of love that with them string
Bright lights beneath the snowy eaves,
Shining as the world believes
That once upon a distant morn
A saviour to this world was born.
How the clatter of chaotic time
Recedes and fades as church bells chime,
And dreams of warmth and thoughts of care
Eclipses wrath and cold despair
When prayers of hope plead to befall
Peace and love to one and all.
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