Sing

Sing, choirs of angels, sing, Harmonies that with them bring The psychic realm of Christmas trees, Recital of prayers on bended knees. Dwelling in open spaces, Frosty tinsel draped places, Wherein the infant innocence entice With tastes of sugar, salt and spice. Nutcracker suites of gentle lilt, Aural pirouettes that bloom and tilt, At the windmills of myth and majesty, Spinning stardust dreams eternally. Sing, oh choir of angels, sing, The notes of love that with them string Bright lights beneath the snowy eaves, Shining as the world believes That once upon a distant morn A saviour to this world was born. How the clatter of chaotic time Recedes and fades as church bells chime, And dreams of warmth and thoughts of care Eclipses wrath and cold despair When prayers of hope plead to befall Peace and love to one and all.