Once upon a midnight clear, when the cold, cozy breeze consumed December’s time.
There was a child so dear, her lovely hums I hear, like a kid given a hundred dime,
Walking along the sidewalk made with bricks, hopping merrily, with an ice bag full of candies in her hand
“Hello Mary, you’re up so early and you look like it’s time for Christmas Day”, I did say.
“It’s December! I shall not wait for the sunrise for this morrow has been planned.”
Then she looked at me intently, a shade of sadness suddenly shows across her face. The she’s gone.
Grasping my chest, my broken heart, there I am standing , looking down on my dear, sweet Mary’s tomb.
My conscience hunting me all these years, when I shouldn’t have given her up in my womb.
That was when once upon a midnight clear, when the cold, cozy breeze consumed December’s time,
When Mary could have known Christmas, but oh she wouldn’t know, no, nevermore.
Disturbed sleeping patterns caused by having a brain running on treadmill, urging to get up and write while everyone else had their seat-belt secured on their travel to dreamland.