Steemit Poetry Contest #9 + Winners of #8!
The wings of Time are steeped
In choruses, like a ring of anvils
At the forge; and trees mutate
In chlorophylls of blinking red
A flame of hearth wanders
Where the feast shall dawn
Till the congregation's ululations
Pronounce Christ as King
But, in all, the year's season subsides
To a cascade of relief, and tempered pressure
The night heralds the keen song of reawakening:
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
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