A Christmas Poem

Not Mine (This is a picture of Hogsmede) 
the starry sky
heaps of white snow
scattered across the street.
thin slender icicles
hang lazily 
on houses' roofs
you lean into your window
your cheek touching
cold glass
your eyes looking up to the sky
you think that you must be 
imagining it
but you see nine figures 
dashing through the 
twinkling stars
each with protruding antlers
one with a bright red
followed by a man 
with a white tangled beard
in a shining red
you hum a soft carol
along with
the jingling bells that you hear
in the back of your ears
the only sounds
in the silence of 
the night.
you smile
close the blinds of the window
and walk back to
your bed,
envelope yourself in covers,
the sweet smell
of gingerbread from the kitchen
wafting up in to your nose
making you smile.
your eyes begin to close
you think one last happy thought
that Christmas is tomorrow
and you fall asleep.
Have a happy holidays!
Not Mine