Upon the mountain way up high
no bells ring out an order
for one and all to gather there
and build a bonfire of delight.
Delight can burn, it surely does,
but not up there on mountain tops
that forces on a burdened flock
a climb beyond ability.
It burns where ere it’s called to be
and fuels itself with true intent
passed from the soul to me, to you,
as a forever Christmas gift.
Time passes though and gifts grow old,
styles change to modern ways,
and fashion statements then decree
we all dress up the same.
You’d think delight would follow suit
but, no, it stays as once was made
old fashioned in its coloured robe
left now to trail behind the times.
It’s not a problem, really not,
be thankful that it trails at all
for easily could give up the chase
and stay back in the past.
Delight is there, always there,
waiting for the call to be
a fire that burns no matter life
that douses true reality!