Christmas Villanelle- small edits Options

[anaisa]

The silver pine is lit with strands of blue,
a robin's tucked beside the window sill.
Tonight is Christmas Eve, I'll think of you.

My kitchen is aglow, the baking through.
A scent of ginger cookies warms the chill,
the silver pine is lit with strands of blue.

Each greeting card is propped up for review
and presents form a multicolored hill.
Tonight is Christmas Eve, I'll think of you.

Small rose-lipped children warm their hands and view
the fire, little toes are pink and still.
The silver pine is lit with strands of blue.

Knit stockings on the mantle hang askew
with plastic toys and candy canes that spill
across their rims. And all the songs we knew

and learned throughout the years, seem ever true
around this joyous season of goodwill—
when silver pines are lit with stands of blue
and every Christmas Eve I think of you.


First one

The sliver pine is lit with strands of blue,
a robin's tucked beside the window sill.
Tonight is Christmas Eve, I'll think of you.

My kitchen is aglow, the baking, through.
A scent of ginger cookies warms the chill,
the silver pine is lit with strands of blue.

Each greeting card is propped up for review
and presents form a colored, layered hill.
Tonight is Christmas Eve, I'll think of you.

Small rose-lipped children warm their hands and view
the fire, little toes are pink and still.
The silver pine is lit with strands of blue.

Knit stockings on the mantle hang askew
with plastic toys and candy canes that spill
across their rims. And all the songs we knew

and learned throughout the years, seem ever true
around this joyous season of goodwill—
when silver pines are lit with stands of blue
and every Christmas Eve I think of you.