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Late is the hour and nigh is the morrow
yet a Little Drummer Boy his drum plays;
and upon the man of peace and sorrow
shine the brightest stars in heavenly gaze.
Bells are ringing and Santa's on his way,
and while children stir from their restless sleep
they listen for a fat man in a sleigh -
their hearts to gladden and their eyes to peep.
Soon it will be that golden fresco light
when first born was the Child Christ prophesied;
and I, a weary creature of the night,
will see in again its dawning Yuletide.
When closed are my eyes to the beating drum...
hark! A new born King pa rum pum pum pum
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014