Oh it’s just a little rhyme.

The little rhyme of hues I weave
has a shade of snow,
by the sunset strewn upon
like a crimson glow.

The little rhyme of hues I weave
has a shade, a glow
of every child that sways
to bells that clang and toll.

There jaunts the warmth--
a carolling dole--
in the swell of wine
and a gingerbread soul!

The little rhyme of hues I weave
has a beard and belly,
a sleigh, a night
and tidings merry.

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