The tree is tall and bent and green like spring
with golden balls that hang like bows on braids
and shiny tinsel raining gold and jade.
Angelic wings flap as the children sing,
“The baby born is Christ, Our Lord and King…”
Small arms rise slowly as the music fades.
The audience breaks in most joyful praise.
Discouraged hearts are now able to dream.
Shawn R. Jones
*I am hoping to finish this sonnet someday : )