The Lights

What is Christmas time without an overabundance of lights? That's a rhetorical question. When I came home I was confronted with a porch overwhelmingly covered in strings of lights and I couldn't have been happier. Living in Miami's 70 degree weather all year round makes any attempt at holiday decorations just seem foolish; It isn't until I come home do I really feel the holiday spirit. The air is brisk, there's a cd playing Jingle Bells on repeat, the TV is constantly playing Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, and of course there are the lights. At night time they make the whole house glow magically, as though the magnificent power of the sun has been captured in these tiny little bulbs. If it weren't so cold I'd sit outside all night just so my mind could get lost in them, transported to another place of another time, leading me into this poem I recently found from Frankie Magazine:

There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart.
Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart.
And came a dawned hue book, with pages stained which dwell,
in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell.
With lashes softly crocheted, around lyric violet eyes,
the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies.
A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall.
And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all.

Happy holiday's to all of you. I hope everything turns out the way you want and that you get to spend these special days with those that mean the most to you. But most of all I hope that you find what your looking for, whatever that may be and that this year we make it truly mean something. 

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