Featuring the Original Christmas Stories of Daniel 'Chip' Ciammaichella

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The Sounds of Christmas

By B. John Murray

Suddenly, somewhere from here and around, Blew mighty winds, not of air, but of sound, Swirling and twirling, with melodious mirth, I could only conclude they weren't of this earth!

A reindeer drawn sleigh slid to a stop And tiny green elves scurried atop; To finish their task before next sunrise, 'Twill be quite a deed of gargantuan size.

Presents all wrapped in heavenly tones, Blessing my village, blessing my home. Calling us all, each one by name But who is this man, what is his game?

His eyes shone a depth, only age could define, In them and from them came a twinkle and shine, Somewhere from snowbirds lofting high in their flight, Just barely, just slightly, I hear songs of delight,

The stars all around glittered with glee They twinkled and winked at him and at me; They lit up the snowflakes on cold, cheery air, But who was this man, ask do I dare?

Trees topped heavy with snow kiss the ground, Bowing in homage to sweet Christmas sound, With snow piled high in glistening mounds, I hide in their shadows so not to be found,

The Reindeer tug twice, now thrice at the reins, As the saintly man roars out their names, Those tiny green elves I could not blame, For leaping aboard as quick as they came,

One last Christmas sound I will never forget, I heard as they raced like comets they left, You can hear it well when you listen, listen, To christmas bells that ring as they glisten,

When your heart feels warm as the ageless sun, And bursts with a light like the starlights spun, Listen as Christmas bells glisten as they're rung, There you'll hear the sounds of Merry Christmas everyone!

-- End

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