Christmas Eve

Bill Watterson 

On the window panes the icy frost
Leaves feathered patterns, criped and crossed
But in our house the Christmas tree
Is decorated festively
With tiny dots of colored light
That cozy up this winter night.
Christmas songs familiar, slow
Play softly on the radio.
Pops and hisses from the fire
Whistle with the bells and choir.
Trying now to fall asleep
On my back and dreaming deep
Tomorrow’s what I’m waiting for,
But I can wait a little more.