When every soul on Christmas night has gone to bed tucked up so tight, The Christmas chill himself takes flight and dances down the street so bright.
Round every corner, twist and turn he feels the fires as they burn. He knows the heat will end him soon his trusted friend above, the moon.
Peering through the frosty panes he keeps on moving through the lanes, He never stops for all to see, a silent friend to you and me.
The sun comes up, he disappears, to put to bed our Christmas fears. He sleeps away the harmful rays, the warmth of all those sunny days.
The cold returns and so does he, to dance again from tree to tree, For Christmas chill the night he owns, he waits for life to freeze their bones.
To all who dare to step outside, he’ll be in waiting trying to hide. For every step that you may stride he’ll watch you as you slip and slide
Merry Christmas from your friend, a seasons greetings message I send.
The Christmas Chill
by Mark Draycott