Where Twinkling Lights Stir the Child in Me.

When winter lights bloom over the pedestrian street,
my inner playchild stirs with soft, excited feet.
The cold air shimmers, silver-bright and sweet,
as twinkling lamps hum secrets where night and wonder meet.

The Christmas tree glows like stars gathered low,
each spark a tiny whisper from the velvet sky’s glow.
And suddenly I’m laughing in a world of make-believe,
where every shining bulb is a dream I get to weave.

In this season of glitter, calm, and delight,
my playchild awakens with the turning on of light—
dancing in the glow of winter’s gentle art,
warming the frost with the spark in my heart. ❤️

TsL. 25
#mypoems #diadvent25