Merry Christmas to you all, from a Ghost at last
Perhaps of many Christmases past
Remember the one, that drags the chains
From whom we took some moral gains
A Ghost which lines now show rust and clutter
Question may be, Does he still have what is the matter?
Forgotten you may wonder?
No he remembers all you thunder
In verse and lines written there in Stone
On your side he did ones roam
Life is short and we may reset
But how could he ever forget?
Still sneaking in ever now and then
You may not see, or know exactly as to when
The words may simple, but they are from the heart
And as always written in poetic art
Merry may your Fest shall be
For all the best, I wish to thee
Health and wellness on your way
Merry Christmas is what I say
The ability to describe life with words is similar to painting a picture; both can be powerful tools.