Nodding and bobbing - swaying and waving,
On a hillside,
painted in white,
The dance of the trees is taking place,
On this
wonderful Christmas Eve night.
A vision given to only a few,
Who must watch from a
distance below,
Uninvited, but welcomed guests,
Peering up through the
mist and snow.
A fantasy scene from a picture book,
Of trees in
silver-white gowns,
That dance in their starlit ballroom.
With a bright
winter moon shining down.
"May I have this dance?" asks the sturdy Pine,
As he bows
to the elegant Fir,
Her boughs quivering with delight,
She replies, "I'd
be honored, sir."
They bend to and fro - stretch high and low,
In a tempo set
by the wind,
Their branches brush in the wind's wild gusts,
Free and
undisciplined.
The mighty Redwoods and tall Cedars
Join also in the
fun,
Though more dignified and stately,
They cannot be outdone.
Moved by the spirit of the wind,
Which alone gives them
good reason,
But coupled with the night at hand,
They dance this Christmas
Season.
The Junipers also leap in the breeze,
Small evergreens that
they are,
A chorus line of high-steppers,
Each kicking up to the
stars.
The Holly bushes are jolly, too,
As they dance on Christmas
Eve.
With their bouncing, bright red berries,
And their shiny, spiny
leaves,
Trees move with joy at Christmas,
It's that special time of
year,
When they dance in celebration,
Of Our Lord's arrival here.
Christmas Eve Night! Oh, what a sight!
The
trees bow down, as in prayer,
They bend and sway in marvelous ways,
As for
Christmas Day, they prepare.